myself of these aggressive little creatures, I was compelled to put a
stern veto on further tree exploration.

The ascent from Ewarton, over the Monte Diavolo, is so splendid that I
have made it five times for sheer delight in the view. Below lies
St. Thomas-in-the-Vale, a splendid riot of palms, orange, and forest
trees, and above it towers hill after hill, dominated by the lofty
peaks of the Blue Mountains. It is a gorgeously vivid panorama, all in
greens, gold, and vivid blues. Monte Diavolo is the only part of
Jamaica where there are wild parrots; it is also the home of the
allspice tree, or pimento, as it is called in the island. This curious
tree cannot be raised from seed or cutting, neither can it be layered;
it can only propagate itself in Nature's own fashion, and the seed
must pass through the body of a bird before it will germinate. So it
is fortunate, being the important article of commerce it is, that the
supply of trees is not failing. Bay rum is made from the leaves of the
allspice tree.

Once over the Monte Diavolo, quite a different Jamaica unrolls itself.
Broad pasture-lands replace the tropical house at Kew; rolling,
well-kept fields of guinea-grass, surrounded with neat, dry-stone
walls and with trim gates, give an impression of a long-settled land.
We were amongst the "pen-keepers," or stock-raisers here. This part of
the colony certainly has a home-like look; a little spoilt as regards
resemblance by the luxuriance with which creepers and plants, which at
home we cultivate with immense care in stove-houses, here riot wild in
lavish masses over the stone walls. If the cherished rarities of one
country are unnoticed weeds in another land, plenty of analogies in
other respects spring to the mind. I could wish though, for aesthetic
reasons, that our English lanes grew tropical Begonias, Coraline, and