much climate has to do with love-making. In our
cold country the progress is lamentably slow. Fogs, east winds, sleet,
storms, and cutting March weather nip many a budding flirtation; whereas
warm, sunny days and bright moonlight nights, with genial air and balmy
zephyrs, open the heart like the cup of a camelia, and let us drink in the
soft dew of--"

"Devilish poetical, that," said Power, evolving a long blue line of smoke
from the corner of his mouth.

"Isn't it, though?" said the major, smiling graciously. "'Pon my life, I
thought so myself. Where was I?"

"Out of my latitude altogether," said the poor skipper, who often found it
hard to follow the thread of a story.

"Yes, I remember. I was remarking that sangaree and calipash, mangoes and
guava jelly, dispose the heart to love, and so they do. I was not more than
six weeks in Jamaica when I felt it myself. Now, it was a very dangerous
symptom, if you had it strong in you, for this reason. Our colonel, the
most cross-grained old crabstick that ever breathed, happened himself to be
taken in when young, and resolving, like the fox who lost his tail and said
it was not the fashion to wear one, to pretend he did the thing for fun,
determined to make every fellow marry upon the slightest provocation.
Begad, you might as well enter a powder magazine with a branch of candles
in your hand, as go into society in the island with a leaning towards the
fair sex. Very hard this was for me particularly; for like poor Sparks
there, my weakness was ever for the petticoats. I had, besides, no
petty, contemptible prejudices as to nation, habits, language, color, or
complexion; black, brown, or fair, from the Muscovite to the Malabar, from
the voluptuous _embonpoint_ of the adjutant's widow,--don't be angry old
boy,--to the fairy form of Isabella herself, I loved them all round. But
were I to give a preference anywhere I should certainly do so to the West
Indians, if it were only for the sake of the planters' daughters. I say it
fearlessly, these colonies are the brightest jewels in the crown. Let's
drink their health, for I'm as husky as a lime-kiln."

This ceremony being performed with suitable enthusiasm, the major cried
out, "Another cheer for Polly Hackett, the sweetest girl in Jamaica. By
Jove, Power, if you only saw her as I did five and forty years ago, with
eyes black as jet, twinkling, ogling, leering, teasing, and imploring,
all at once, do you mind, and a mouthful of