s wife, into another apartment, in the
corner of which, was a kind of grate where a fire was kindled on
the ground. Here a table was spread that groaned under all the
luxuries which abound on the plantations of this Island; but it
was perhaps fortunate for me, that my throat was so raw and
inflamed I could swallow nothing but some soft-boiled rice and
coffee. After this refreshment, the kind old Spaniard stripped
me, dipped a clean linen cloth into pure virgin honey and rubbed
it over my sores. He then pointed to the bed, which had been
prepared for me in the same room. I gave him to understand, by
signs, that I should besmear his clean sheets; but this was
negatived by a shake of the head; so without further ceremony I
turned in--it was the softest pillow I ever did, or expect to,
lay my head on;--yet it was rest, not sleep.

The old man had ordered a servant to attend me during the night,
fearing the little food I had taken, after so long an abstinence,
might produce some serious illness. Every time I groaned or
turned, this servant would run to me with a bowl of strong hot
coffee, which I could not refuse without disobeying his master's
orders. Early in the morning, before I arose, the old planter
came to my bed side, examined my pulse and tongue, and brought me
a quart bowl of fresh tamarinds, more than half of which, he
compelled me to eat, in order to prepare my stomach for the after
reception of food, and prevent those symptoms of inflammation,
which his intimate knowledge of the healing art had enabled him
to discover.

I arose, put on my clothes and walked out to survey the
possessions of this wealthy old planter, to whose hospitality I
had been indebted for my life.

The plantation, or rather villa, called St. CLAIRE, is owned by
one family, consisting of about thirty members including the
heads, whom I have already described, with their children,
grand-children, and an elderly sister who resides with them.
These all inhabit one large mansion, recently constructed of the
Cedar of Cuba--two stories high, with a roof thatched with palm
leaf. Some fifty huts, occupied by the slaves belonging to the
plantation, were scattered around the villa.

Nothing can be more beautiful than the coffee plantation. It is
an immense square of several hundred acres, enclosed by a lime
hedge about five feet thick, with their tops so exactly trimmed
as to form a perfect level. This square is intersected by
avenues, crossing