ellow; drawbacks, three: (1) no cook; (2) an inveterate
bungler; a man with twenty thumbs, continually falling in the dishes,
throwing out the dinner, preserving the garbage; (3) a dr----, well,
don't let us say that--but we daren't let him go to town, and he--poor,
good soul--is afraid to be let go.--Lafaele (Raphael), a strong, dull,
deprecatory man; splendid with an axe, if watched; the better for a
rowing, when he calls me "Papa" in the most wheedling tones; desperately
afraid of ghosts, so that he dare not walk alone up in the banana
patch--see map. The rest are changing labourers; and to-night, owing to
the miserable cowardice of Peni, who did not venture to tell me what the
men wanted--and which was no more than fair--all are gone--and my
weeding in the article of being finished! Pity the sorrows of a planter.

I am, Sir, yours, and be jowned to you, The Planter,

R. L. S.

_Tuesday, 3rd._--I begin to see the whole scheme of letter-writing; you
sit down every day and pour out an equable stream of twaddle.

This morning all my fears were fled, and all the trouble had fallen to
the lot of Peni himself, who deserved it; my field was full of weeders;
and I am again able to justify the ways of God. All morning I worked at
the _South Seas_, and finished the chapter I had stuck upon on Saturday.
Fanny, awfully hove-to with rheumatics and injuries received upon the
field of sport and glory, chasing pigs, was unable to go up and down
stairs, so she sat upon the back verandah, and my work was chequered by
her cries. "Paul, you take a spade to do that--dig a hole first. If you
do that, you'll cut your foot off! Here, you boy, what you do there? You
no get work? You go find Simele; he give you work. Peni, you tell this
boy he go find Simele; suppose Simele no give him work, you tell him go
'way. I no want him here. That boy no good."--_Peni_ (from the distance
in reassuring tones), "All right, sir!"--_Fanny_ (after a long pause),
"Peni, you tell that boy go find Simele! I no want him stand here all
day. I no pay that boy. I see him all day. He no do nothing."--Luncheon,
beef, soda-scones, fried bananas, pine-apple in claret, coffee. Try to
write a poem; no go. Play the flageolet. Then sneakingly off to
farmering and pioneering. Four gangs at work on our place; a lively
scene; axes crashing and smoke blowing; all the knives are out. But I
rob the garden party of one without a stock, and you should see my
hand--cut to r