flower, and its blossom has an indescribably delicious fragrance. I shall shortly leave the plantation of Ariadne, but shall return both from my own wishes and those of the family. I am anxious to leave with my kind entertainers, as a remembrance of me, a portrait of the youngest boy, my little playmate.
St. Amelia Inhegno is a large sugar plantation, and I am now sitting in the smoke of the sugar-mill, which enters through the open window into my room—a large, excellent room, with a regular glass window, from which I obtain a fine view of the hills of Camerisca, and the palm-groves and plantations at their feet. I have everything here which I can wish for, only too much of the sugar manufacture, which is just opposite my one window, and which is on a much larger scale than on the plantation of Ariadne. Is it not singular that the word Inhegno, which here signifies an inclosed and cultivated place, and which is always used to indicate a plantation, so much resembles, both in sound and meaning, our Swedish word Inhägnad?
My hostess, Mrs. de C., is an agreeable and well-bred American lady, a widow with four children, three of whom are in the United States, and only one, a pretty girl of sixteen, remaining with her at home. She lives here with her father, an old officer of cheerful temperament, although lame, and confined for the most part to his armchair. A young American Creole, Mr. W., whose plantation adjoins, is a daily visitor in the family, and a most agreeable companion he is. He, like my hostess, is possessed of the gift of gay and easy conversation, below which lies a foundation of earnest integrity. Another young man belongs to the social circle of the evening and the dinner-table, and he is, under the old gentleman, overseer of the plantation. This young man is of great
