Next day, like the 'Young Muleteers of Grenada,' a good song which often haunted me in those days, 'With morning's earliest twinkle Again we are up and gone,' with two horses, two mules, and a Negro and a Coolie carrying our scanty luggage in Arima baskets: but not without an expression of pity from the Negro who cleaned my boots.

'Where were we going ?' To the east coast.

Cuffy turned up what little nose he had.

He plainly considered the east coast, and indeed Trinidad itself, as not worth looking at.

'Ah! you should go Barbadoes, sa.