boy in a cocoa-nut tree, gathering and flinging down the nuts, and as we stopped to look in at the rough house and garden, a very commonly clad person, perhaps the mistress of the property, asked us with that easy and hospitable grace that belongs to these races, whether we would like a draught of the milk. It was impossible to refuse the offer, not only from the manner in which it was made, but also because it presented a new experience. The nuts were not yet quite ripe and therefore they were quite full of the milk, which had not yet been absorbed into the kernel.

Now there is a certain skill required in doing everything, even, or I may say particularly, in the blacking of a boot; and as our good friend laid the nut upon its side, chopping it with a rude blade upon a rude block, I began to wonder how much of the milk must pour out and be wasted. But, so soon as the shell appeared underneath the well-known fibrous casing, she twisted up the top and dug a small hole in it with the corner of her hatchet in the most finished manner, so that not a drop of the milk was lost, but the contents of three nuts gave three tumblerfulls. No one knows what oranges and pine apples are but those who have gathered them to eat; and until we had been thus regaled, none of us had guessed what a tumbler of young cocoa-nut milk is, particularly on a hot day in the tropics.

On the same evening we left the green hills and

flowering trees behind, and sailing up the long extending coast of the important Island of Cuba in a north-westerly direction, made the noble port of San Juan, Havannah, on the morning of the 21st of June, where we were to coal. It was a dull wet evening, but I went ashore with the captain, among the flat, straight streets and the cubic houses, till we came to the great centre Plaza de Armas, where we dined very badly off what was prepared, including certain inedible oysters. Then to the “ Cervantes" with one or two friends, whom the captain found at the large café. This was a sort of second-rate theatre where dances of a somewhat startling kind took place. We rowed back by boat again at night, and though we were coaling on the following day, I deferred a second. visit to Havannah till my return, wandering about the hills and viewing the large city from above.

Finally, at half past four we sailed; and a ghostly comet, which I was called to see, attended our ghostly morning moon on our course to Vera Cruz, before whose flat, malarious, hot shore we found ourselves at anchor very early on the Sunday morning of the 26th-Vera Cruz, the chief city and the (so called) port, on their eastern shore, of the United States of Mexico, built upon the spot where three centuries and a half ago Cortés landed, and founded empire and returned; and where, in our own day Maximilian landed, to assume an empire, and returned

not.

CHAPTER II.

VERA CRUZ TO MEXICO.

THUS ended a most pleasant and successful passage of some 5600 miles from Southampton, with a difference by longitudinal calculation of some six hours of time, noon having been continually put back as we travelled westward in obedience to that arbitrary power belonging to sea captains of daily crying "make it noon." Off go eight bells, as soon as the word is given, and a new twenty-four hours' calculation is begun.

Every one who has travelled by sea is supposed to know that eight bells is the highest number ever struck, and that these occur at noon and at every succeeding period of four hours; viz., at every twelve, four, and eight of the clock, after which the first solitary one is struck again to signify the first half hour. But a good lady (fortunately an amusing one), at the striking of noon one day, on a passage I was making, came across the deck and flouncing down by my side, as if I had been doing something I had promised not to do, exclaimed in a most decided tone :

"There! there go those ridiculous bells again."

"No," I said, "they have just taken their observation, and find our longitude gives us noon: i.e. eight bells."

"But they strike eight bells at eight o'clock, and why not twelve at twelve o'clock?"

"Because they count by 'watches' on board."

"Well, what's the difference between watches and clocks? I never shall understand those ridiculous bells!"

"No, no, not that kind of watches, but the fourhour watches of the crew. When you hear eight bells at twelve o'clock, as you did just now, you have only to count on for every odd number a half hour, and for every even number an hour, until you get to four o'clock and then you must begin again."

"I think," said my friend, "I have heard that sort of explanation before; but I am sure it is not always so regular through the whole twenty-four hours."

"No, it is not-you are right-because in order to dodge or zig-zag the hours of the watch so that the same men should not always be on watch at the same returning hour, night and day, the four hours between four o'clock in the afternoon and eight o'clock at night are divided into two watches; so that at six in the evening the bells stop at four bells, when a new watch is called, and then they begin again at one bell instead of going on with five, and the watch is thus changed over; but eight bells are always struck at

These

eight at night; so thus the number jumps from three bells at half past seven to eight bells at eight. short watches are called dog-watches."

"Oh! those are what I hear called 'dog-watches,' -why?"

"Well, I used to think it was a corruption of dodgewatches, as they are intended to dodge the hours, as explained; but I believe the term does really signify that they are short or mean watches, as we talk of dog violets when without scent."

My friend was highly gratified with this short conversation, and said "ho!" but as she was sitting by me when eight bells struck at noon on the following day she turned round and syllabically said :—

"Well, I have no doubt it is all right, but I still must say they are ridiculous bells!"

How many very much more important subjects are thus treated after explanation and proof, laugh as we may at the lady and her ridiculous bells!

Vera Cruz, the chief city (as I have said) and (so called) port on the east coast of the United States of Mexico on their eastern shore, cannot be said to offer a very engaging aspect to the curious eye of - the traveller. It is a naked-looking town, built of white-looking cubic or flat-roofed houses, with certain domed churches, lying on a long low shore, which fades into the distance on both sides, quite uninteresting and devoid of feature. On your left as you face the land stands the dreary-looking