hundred pound sacks of flour marked as from Chili. There must have
been many hundred of them. A man going in the opposite direction sidled
past us.

"Cheaper than lumber," said he briefly, seeing our astonishment.

"I'd hate to ask the price of lumber," remarked one of our ship's
companions, with whom--and a number of others--we were penetrating the
town. This man carried only a very neat black morocco satchel and a net
bag containing a half dozen pineapples, the last of a number he had
brought from the Isthmus. The contrast of that morocco bag with the rest
of him was quite as amusing as any we saw about us; though, of course,
he did not appreciate that.

We walked on flour for a hundred feet or so, and then came to cook
stoves. I mean it. A battalion of heavy iron cook stoves had been laid
side by side to form a causeway. Their weight combined with the traffic
over them had gradually pressed them down into the mud until their tops
were nearly level with the surface. Naturally the first merry and
drunken joker had shied the lids into space. The pedestrian had now
either to step in and out of fire boxes or try his skill on narrow
ledges! Next we came to a double row of boxes of tobacco; then to some
baled goods, and so off onto solid ground.

We passed many people, all very intent on getting along safely. From the
security of the shed stores the proprietors and an assorted lot of
loafers watched proceedings with interest. The task of crossing the
street from one side to the other, especially, was one not lightly to be
undertaken! A man had to balance, to leap, to poise; and at last
probably, to teeter back and forth trying to keep his balance like a
small boy on a fence rail, until, with an oath of disgust, he stepped
off into the slime.

When we had gained the dry ground near the head of the street we threw
down our burdens for a rest.

"I'll give you ten dollars for those pineapples!" offered a passerby,
stopping short.

Our companion quickly closed the bargain.

"What do you think of that?" he demanded of us wide-eyed, and in the
hearing of the purchaser.

The latter grinned a little, and hailed a man across the street.

"Charley!" he yelled. "Come over here!"

The individual addressed offered some demur, but finally picked his way
across to us.

"How do you like these?" demanded the pineapple purchaser, showing his
fruit.

"Jerusalem!" cried Charley admiringly, "where did you get them? Want to
sel