sand at your feet. But it is not inanimate nature alone that catches your eye. The beach is all life, bustle, and business. Fat accountants, with white turbans and flowing robes, ear-rings, and finger-rings, are giving domineering commands to poor coolies. Boats are being unloaded, logs of mahogany and bags of grain carried to storehouses, and conveyances passing to and fro upon the road. The peons, with their belts and canes, are swaggering among the concourse to preserve order, and guard against smuggling. The water scenes, however, have a more lively interest. Here are three men launching a catamaran. The heavy raft of logs is dragged, first one end being carried forward, then the other, until it reaches the water's edge. A wave runs up the beach, and almost floats it; another comes, and the men, thrusting it forward, leap upon it. But quick as thought, another furious breaker is upon them, and hurls catamaran and men upon the beach. They wait their opportunity, and now, with better success, they push out again into the surf; the first wave is passed, and the second is upon them. You think they must be washed off; but no! it rolls over them, and plying their flat paddles vigorously, they reach
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BLACK-TOWN.
