Polly's Southern Cruise

“Well, every one ought to see the natives dive for coins – that’s one of the amusements offered here; but that can be done as we come from the yacht to-morrow morning,” said Jack. At this suggestion, Polly interpolated:

“I hope to goodness you don’t expect us to run the gauntlet of those buggy drivers again, do you?”

And Eleanor said: “Why not camp out at this hotel as long as we are here. I find it delightfully cool and restful here.”

“At least we might stay here to-night, Dalky,” added Ray.

“I’m willing. The Captain will understand if we do not return by ten o’clock to-night.”

It was therefore decided that the entire party would remain at the Spring Hotel that night and, should they find the evening entertainment alluring enough, they might remain another night.

“That means we ladies must get out and shop for requisites we will need overnight,” ventured Mrs. Fabian.

“I was wondering if it would not be wise to do some shopping this afternoon,” added Mrs. Ashby.

“We may as well do all the shopping we plan to do, as long as we are at it,” suggested Mrs. Courtney.

“Well, if you ladies are going to shop, what do you expect the male members of the party to do to kill time?” asked Ray.

“Why, go along and pay the bills, to be sure!” laughed Mr. Ashby.

“What else do you think a married man can do?” added Mr. Fabian.

About this time the gong boy came out on the verandah and made such a deafening din with the hammer and copper drum he carried that John Baxter beckoned him over.

“What’s the game now, Bo?” asked Jack.

“Lunsh’on, sah!” answered the young boy, pounding with might and main that all should hear the call to midday luncheon. But he looked at the dusty young man who questioned him, then showed his mighty disdain at the awful clothes covered with Jamaica real estate, by curling his nostrils and walking away from Jack.

Midst a merry peal of laughter at his expense, Jack got up and limped into the hotel in order to secure a room with bath where he might relieve his person of the undesirable weight of earth.

He had not been gone a minute ere a dusty, angry driver stumbled up the steps and gazed wildly at the group where his “fare” had been seated. Not seeing a man answering to the description, the man sought everywhere – inside and outside, for the man who had taken the license of using his horse and hack without permission, and left him, the owner, to walk all the way to the Spring Hotel to recover his business assets.

During the time the furious driver sought him, Jack reclined in a luxurious bath and managed to relieve himself and his hair of all the clinging dust he had accumulated in that mad race through knee-deep dust on the side-streets of Jamaica.

Mourning the loss of collecting the damages he had expected to claim from the New Yorker, the hack driver had to leave in his recovered surrey. But he made up his weak mind to find that young man when he should reappear on the quay some day to leave the town.

CHAPTER IX – THE SIGHTS OF JAMAICA

The climate of this the largest of the islands of the West Indies, was as perfect as climate can be. The heat was, of course, tropical; but that was tempered by sea-breezes forever blowing from one direction or another, and as the island is not too mountainous to obstruct these breezes, one can always find relief from the warmth of the sunshine.

The streets, where the best shops are located, are a busy sight, indeed, especially during tourists’ season, when crowds of visitors are eagerly selecting souvenirs for home-friends. These tradesmen consider a buyer, who does not bargain for his purchase, a brainless creature to be despised. In fact, one must offer the merchant just about one quarter of the price asked first if he wishes to win esteem and admiration from the native. Many times a buyer secures reverence if he turns and pretends to walk out of the booth, and then pauses to listen to the beseeching salesman to turn and take the desirable article at his own figure!

As the ladies in Mr. Dalken’s party sauntered from one shop to another, enjoying the unusual fun of driving hard bargains (as the proprietor of the hotel had warned them to do) the men attended stalls where they purchased native hats, curios, and walking sticks or umbrellas with odd handles and of splendid workmanship.

They finally wound up in the market place, but it was too late in the day to witness the thrill and thrall of marketing as is seen in the early mornings. Mr. Dalken learned that on Saturdays the country people foregathered in the great market to sell their produce and invest the returns in their own needs. The man added with a smile at the ladies:

“If you visit here on Sata’day, better wear a big bunch of strong scented flowers directly under your nose. The smells of the crowded stalls and the decaying fruit or vegetables, to say nothing of fowl and fish spread out on boards in the heat to attract the buyers but the flies as well, will not be the pleasantest scent to get.”

“I should say it will be as well to keep away from such a powerful combined odor, eh?” was Mr. Dalken’s smiling answer.

“But the sight is well worth the insult to the other sense,” retorted the man who had a sense of humor as well as wit.

“Thank you for the suggestions. If we are still in the town we will call again,” returned Mr. Dalken, lifting his hat and turning to leave the market place.

That afternoon the tourists returned to the hotel laden with purchases. Not only were the ladies almost bankrupt from spending money on hand-embroidered undergarments and basketwork ornaments, but they also had been lured into buying savage designs of jewelry and art objects. The men bought ebony paper cutters, desk outfits, wonderful whips made from lace-bark, and even fishing-rods made of bamboo, with marvelous handles mounted on a shark’s backbone. Some of the rods had handles of sandalwood, and were genuine curios in carvings.

At dinner that evening the hotel manager came over to Mr. Dalken’s table and introduced himself.

“I wish to invite you to a reception given this evening at Government House. My guests are always welcome at these entertainments; there you will meet our Jamaican society.”

Mr. Dalken thanked the host and said: “I am sure we appreciate your hospitable invitation. If the ladies wish to go we shall enjoy the reception.”

Naturally the ladies voted to go, and this necessitated a return trip to the yacht in order to dress for the evening. They had heard how particular were the aspirants to social favor, as regards the demands of proper dress at all functions. Therefore Mr. Dalken chartered a car and soon had his guests back at the quay and on board his yacht where they hurriedly arrayed themselves in evening clothes.

At the reception that evening the Americans found a mixed society. Military, civic officialdom, and those who could be classed with the Dalken group. Dress was a very important item in this gathering, and every lady present, be she pure white, milk-white (which really showed she was an octoroon) or yellow, flaunted the most gorgeous gowns. Many dresses could claim Parisian birth, and others came from the best Fifth Avenue shops in New York City. The females in the yacht party now saw the very latest ideas in style, and they were honestly amazed at such a revelation. Later they heard that style and display of their clothes constituted the main interest in life for the Kingston society ladies.

Dancing is the favorite amusement of the Jamaicans, and they take advantage of every opportunity to dance, morning, noon, or night. Hence a reception of such importance as one at Government House provides a great opportunity for dancing. The younger members in Mr. Dalken’s party found all the dancing they could stand at that time. Even the elder members were lured into dancing several seductive waltzes that evening, and Polly saw for the first time what a graceful and admirable pair Mrs. Courtney and Mr. Dalken made as dancing partners.

While they waited for the automobile which had been engaged for the evening, Polly whispered to Eleanor: “Haven’t you noticed how Dalky has bloomed since that blight of Elizabeth has been removed?”

“Yes, indeed! And I’m glad of it. Her reckless running away with those horrid persons that night really turned out to be the very best thing for our Dalky in the end. Now he can enjoy himself to his heart’s content without being spied upon,” said Eleanor.

The ladies were now crowded into the automobile, while the men went to the tram to ride as far as it carried them in the direction of the Spring Hotel. The air was cool and refreshing during the night, and the dancing had not caused any one to feel too tired or languid, as might have been expected in such a climate.

A good sleep at night and a refreshing bath with a fine breakfast in the morning, brought forth eager and energetic tourists in Mr. Dalken’s party that next morning.

“Well, what is on the bill for to-day?” demanded Jack, eagerly.

“You sound as if you knew of something,” countered Polly.

“I do. I heard of it last night from one of the officers in the Army. Do you want to hear it?”

Of course they wanted to hear it. But it was far different than anything they expected to hear.

“There is a trial in the Court House this morning at ten, of a young man who helped himself to a stick of sweets on sale by a street peddler, of which class Kingston is full and overflowing. The lieutenant is called upon as a witness of the theft, and the brown policeman who caught the fellow red-handed, is going to make the most of his claim to promotion on the force. I hear it will be as good as any vaudeville show in the city,” explained Jack.

“It seems a pity to waste a fine morning in an ill-smelling courtroom, when there are so many other interesting things to do,” argued Mr. Fabian, whose artistic instincts rebelled against a court scene as an amusement.

“Oh, I’d love to witness such a scene,” declared Eleanor, glancing at her girl-friends to see what they thought about it.

“Supposing you folks – all who wish to – go on a drive all about the country, while we youngsters attend court,” ventured Ray.

“If I thought we could trust the girls to you two scapegraces in such a place as a Kingston Court House, I’d accept the suggestion,” returned Mr. Dalken.

“I’ll go with the girls to the court, and you all can go for a sight-seeing trip,” offered Mrs. Courtney.

“Would you really care to sit out a court trial?” asked Mrs. Fabian, sympathetically for her friend.