The banana grows everywhere, and its varieties are as numerous as
those of our apple; its colors, its sizes, manifold. Some about
the size of one's finger are deliciously sweet and juicy. They grow
seemingly without any cultivation whatever, by the road as freely
as in the gardens. Guavas are plentiful, oranges abundant but poor
in quality. The pomelo is like our "grape fruit," but larger, less
bitter and less juicy. Cut into squares or sections and served with a
sauce of white of egg and sugar beaten together it is a delicious dish.

There are no strawberries or raspberries, but many kinds of small
fruits, none of which I considered at all palatable, although some
of them looked delicious hanging upon the trees or bushes. There is a
small green kind of cherry full of tiny seeds that the natives prize
and enjoy. The fruits of one island are common to all.

The flora of the country was not seen at its best; many of the natives
told me. Trees, shrubs, gardens and plantations had been trampled by
both armies and left to perish. Our government took up the work of
restoration as soon as possible. The few roses that I saw were not of a
particularly good quality, nor did they have any fragrance. No one can
ever know what joy thrilled me when one day I found some old fashioned
four o'clocks growing in the church yard. The natives do not care to
use the natural flowers in the graceful sprays or luxuriant clusters in
which they grow. They usually stick them on the sharp spikes of some
small palm or wind them on a little stick to make a cone or set the
spikelets side by side in a flat block. They much prefer artificial
stiffness to natural grace. In the hundreds of funeral ceremonies
that I saw I never noticed the use of a single natural blossom. The
flowers were all artificial, of silk, paper, or tissue. One reason,
perhaps, of this choice is that all vegetation is infested with ants;
they can scarcely be seen, but, oh, they can be felt! The first time
I was out driving I begged the guard to gather me huge bunches of
most exquisite blooms but I was soon eager to throw them all out;
the ants swarmed upon me and drove me nearly frantic. I learned to
shun my own garden paths and to content myself with looking out of
the window on the plants below. There are many birds but no songsters.

The betel nut is about the size of a walnut. The kernel is white
like the cocoanut. They wrap a bit of this kernel with a pinch of
air-slacked lim