In passing to-day along the deep sand road, calling itself the street of Darien, my notice was attracted by an extremely handsome and intelligent-looking poodle, standing by a little wizen-looking knife-grinder, whose features were evidently European, though he was nearly as black as a negro who, strange to say, was discoursing with him in very tolerable French.  The impulse of curiosity led me to accost the man at the grindstone, when his companion immediately made off.  The itinerant artisan was from Aix in Provence; think of wandering thence to Darien in Georgia!  I asked him about the negro who was talking to him; he said he knew nothing of him, but that he was a slave belonging to somebody in the town.  And upon my expressing surprise at his having left his own beautiful and pleasant country for this dreary distant region, he answered, with a shrug and a smile, ’Oui, madame, c’est vrai; c’est un joli pays, mais dans ce pays-la, quand un homme n’a rien, c’est rien pour toujours.’  A property which many no doubt have come hither, like the little French knife-grinder, to increase, without succeeding in the struggle much better than he appeared to have done.

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Dear E——­, Having made a fresh and, as I thought, more promising purchase of fishing-tackle, Jack and I betook ourselves to the river, and succeeded in securing some immense cat-fish, of which, to tell you the truth, I am most horribly afraid when I have caught them.  The dexterity necessary for taking them off the hook so as to avoid the spikes on their backs, and the spikes on each side of their gills, the former having to be pressed down, and the two others pressed up, before you can get any purchase on the slimy beast (for it is smooth skinned and without scales, to add to the difficulty)—­these conditions, I say, make the catching of cat-fish questionable sport.  Then too, they hiss, and spit, and swear at one, and are altogether devilish in their aspect and demeanour; nor are they good for food, except, as Jack with much humility said this morning, for coloured folks—­’Good for coloured folks, missis; me ’spect not good enough for white people.’  That ’spect, meaning expect, has sometimes a possible meaning of suspect, which would give the sentence in which it occurs a very humorous turn, and I always take the benefit of that interpretation.  After exhausting the charms of our occupation, finding that cat-fish were likely to be our principal haul, I left the river and went my rounds to the hospitals.  On my way I encountered two batches of small black fry, Hannah’s children and poor Psyche’s children, looking really as neat and tidy as children of the bettermost class of artisans among ourselves.  These people are so quick and so imitative that it would be the easiest thing in the world to improve their physical condition by appealing to their emulative propensities.  Their passion for what is genteel might be used most advantageously in the same direction; and indeed, I think it would be difficult to find people who offered such a fair purchase by so many of their characteristics to the hand of the reformer.