to understand that he is the only strictly honest person in
Aspinwall. The rest, he says, are niggers--which the colored
people of the Isthmus regard as about as scathing a thing as they
can say of one another.

I examine the New Grenadian flag, which waves from the
chamber-window of the refreshment saloon. It is of simple design.
You can make one.

Take half of a cotton shirt, that has been worn two months, and dip
it in molasses of the Day & Martin brand. Then let the flies
gambol over it for a few days, and you have it. It is an emblem of
Sweet Liberty.

At the Howard House the man of sin rubbeth the hair of the horse to
the bowels of the cat, and our girls are waving their lily-white
hoofs in the dazzling waltz.

We have a quadrille, in which an English person slips up and jams
his massive brow against my stomach. He apologizes, and I say,
"all right, my lord." I subsequently ascertained that he
superintended the shipping of coals for the British steamers, and
owned fighting cocks.

The ball stops suddenly.

Great excitement. One of our passengers intoxicated and riotous in
the street. Openly and avowedly desires the entire Republic of New
Grenada to "come on."