intellectual amusement, they have a pregnant fancy and a ready wit; tell
inexhaustible stories, and always laugh at each other's jokes. A
natural instinct gave them the art of making wine; and it was the same
benevolent Nature that blessed them also with the knowledge of the art
of making love. But time flies even here. The lovely companions have
danced, and sung, and banqueted, and laughed; what further bliss remains
for man? They rise, and in pairs wander about the island, and then to
their bowers; their life ends with the Night they love so well; and ere
Day, the everlasting conqueror, wave his flaming standard in the
luminous East, solitude and silence will again reign in the ISLE OF
FANTAISIE.



CHAPTER 2


The last and loudest chorus had died away, and the Islanders were
pouring forth their libation to their great enemy the Sun, when suddenly
a vast obscurity spread over the glowing West. They looked at each
other, and turned pale, and the wine from their trembling goblets fell
useless on the shore. The women were too frightened to scream, and, for
the first time in the Isle of Fantaisie, silence existed after sunset.
They were encouraged when they observed that the darkness ceased at that
point in the heavens which overlooked their coral rocks; and perceiving
that their hitherto unsullied sky was pure, even at this moment of
otherwise universal gloom, the men regained their colour, touched the
goblets with their lips, further to reanimate themselves, and the women,
now less discomposed, uttered loud shrieks.