and the many _flaneurs_ of the place, must find some attractions
in its precincts, for though redolent with effluvia of the worst
description, and swarming with flies, it is, during part of the
day, the rendezvous of a merry and jostling crowd.

The eastern half of the island contains the burial-ground, the
water-tanks, the Roman Catholic mission-house, and a small fort.

The burial-ground begins almost with the last houses, the boundary
between the living and the dead being merely nominal. To improve
the closer relationship between the two, the water-tanks are placed
amongst the graves! but there are but few tanks still in good
condition. After heavy showers, the surface drainage finds its way
into the reservoirs, carrying with it the detritus of all the
accumulated filth of the last year or two, and adding an infusion
of human bodies, in all stages of decomposition. Still, the water
is highly prized, and, strange to say, seems to have no noxious
effects, on the drinkers. At the north and south points of this
part of the island two buildings have been erected--the one the
emblem of good-will and peace; the other, of war and strife--the
mission-house and the fort. But it is difficult to decide which of
the two means the most mischief; many are inclined to give the palm
to the worthy fathers' abode. The fort appears formidable, but only
at a great distance; on near approach it is found to be but a relic
of former ages, a crumbled-down ruin, too weak to bear any longer
its three old rusty guns now lying on the ground: it is the terror,
not of the neighbourhood, but of the unfortunate gunner, who has
already lost an arm whilst endeavouring to return a salute through
their honeycombed tubes. On the other hand, the mission-house,
garbed in immaculate whiteness, smiles radiantly around, inviting