the men, when they speak, or are spoken to, shut one eye and spit;--a lucid
and succinct description of a community.

The second day of my sojourn was fine--the first fine day since our arrival
and with several young ladies of the family, I was prowling through the
cedar wood above St George's, when a dark good--looking man passed us; he
was dressed in tight worsted net pantaloons and Hessian boots, and wore a
blue frock--coat and two large epaulets, with rich French bullion, and a
round hat. On passing he touched his hat with much grace, and in the
evening I met him in society. It was Commodore Decatur. He was very much
a Frenchman in manner, or, I should rather say, in look, for although very
well bred, he, for one ingredient, by no means possessed a Frenchman's
volubility; still, he was an exceedingly agreeable and very handsome man.

The following day we spent in a pleasure cruise amongst the three hundred
and sixty--five islands, many of them not above an acre in extent--fancy an
island of an acre in extent!--with a solitary house, a small garden, a
red--skinned family, a piggery, and all around clear deep pellucid water.
None of the islands, or islets, rise to any great height, but they all
shoot precipitously out of the water, as if the whole group, had originally
been one huge platform of rock, with numberless grooves subsequently
chiselled out in it by art.


We had to wind our way amongst these manifold small channels for two hours
before we reached the gentleman's house where we had been invited to dine;
at length, on turning a corner, with both latteen sails drawing
beautifully, we ran bump on a shoal; there was no danger, and knowing that
the Mudians were capital sailors, I sat still. Not so Captain K-----, a
round plump little homo,--"Shove her off, my boys, shove her off." She