A tall and stately dame was there; her only garment a long cotton-print gown, which covered her tall figure from throat to ankle and wrist, showing brown feet and hands which had once been delicate, and a brown face, half Spanish, half Indian, modest and serious enough.

We pointed to a tall orange-tree overhead, laden with fruit of every hue from bright green to gold.

She, on being appealed to in Spanish, answered with a courteous smile, and then a piercing scream of--'Candelaria, come hither, and get oranges for the Governor and other senors!' Candelaria, who might have been eighteen or twenty, came sliding down under the Banana-leaves, all modest smiles, and blushes through her whity-brown skin.

But having no more clothes on than her mother, she naturally hesitated at climbing the tree; and after ineffectual attempts to knock down oranges with a bamboo, screamed in her turn for some Jose or Juan.

Jose or Juan made his appearance, in a ragged shirt.