the "Royal" palm, the _Palmiste_ of the French, which is one of
the glories of West Indian scenery.

Though Father Labat may have drawn the longbow intentionally, some of
the country houses erected by the sugar planters in the heyday of the
colony's riotous prosperity are really very fine indeed, although at
present they have mostly changed hands, or been left derelict. Long
Bay Castle, now unoccupied, is a most ambitious building, with marble
stairs, beautiful plaster ceilings, and some of its original
Chippendale furniture still remaining. A curious feature of all these
Barbadian houses is the hurricane-wing, built of extra strength and
fitted with iron shutters, into which all the family locked themselves
when the fall of the barometer announced the approach of a hurricane.
I was shown one hurricane-wing which had successfully withstood two
centuries of these visitations.

Barbados is the only ugly island of the West Indian group, for every
available foot is planted with sugar-cane, and the unbroken,
undulating sea of green is monotonous. In the hilly portions, however,
there are some very attractive bits of scenery.

On my first visit, as I have already said, I saw nothing of all this,
except through glasses from the deck of a tramp. I was also to be
denied a sight of Jamaica, for the Captain knew that he would be
refused _pratique_ there, and settled to steam direct to the Danish
island of St. Thomas, where quarantine regulations were less strict, so
all my voyage was for nothing.

Not for over twenty years after was I to make the acquaintance of
Kingston and Port Royal and the Palisadoes, all very familiar names to