slaves' bohea or ramble about the plantation; I enjoy the air and sketch trees and flowers; I have now become acquainted with that candelabra-like plant, which I have already mentioned. It is the flower-stalk of a plant of the aloe genus, called Peta, a shrub with stiff thorny leaves, and this flower-stalk shoots up from the root every third year, and bears upon its branches bunches of yellowish flowers which produce fruit. It shoots up to a height of five or six ells, blossoms and bears fruit all within the space of two months, after which it dies down. It has a singular but very ornamental appearance; I have made a drawing of it. Here also are a couple of remarkable ceiba trees, the one on account of its beauty, the other for its deformity—its tragical combat with the parasite. The sugar-cane fields are enclosed with lofty, untrimmed hedges in which grow wild orange and various tropical trees.
During the hottest part of the forenoon I sit quietly in my own light, excellent chamber, writing and drawing. Just before dinner I go out, look around me in the bohea, or seat myself under a mango-tree on a cross road to catch a few breezes, if I can, in its shade. In the afternoon I generally drive out with Mrs. de C. in her volante, her daughter and Mr. W. accompanying us on horseback. To be rocked over the country in an open volante, in that heavenly, delicious air, is the most soothing, delightful enjoyment that anybody can conceive.
The family assembles in the evening, and I then play American marches, “quicksteps,” and other lively pieces, with Yankee Doodle for the old gentleman, who, with these, recals his youthful achievements, and feels new life in his stiffened limbs. At a later hour I go out on the piazza to see the stars shining in the darkness of night, and to inhale the zephyrs which, though not so full of life as at Matanzas, are yet always full of delicious influence.
