religious meetings, it is probable that they are the barbarous
expression of religion, handed down to them from their African
ancestors, and destined to pass away under the influence of Christian
teachings. The people on this island have no songs. They sing only
hymns, and most of these are sad. Prince, a large black boy from a
neighboring plantation, was the principal shouter among the children. It
seemed impossible for him to keep still for a moment. His performances
were most amusing specimens of Ethiopian gymnastics. Amaretta the
younger, a cunning, kittenish little creature of only six years old, had
a remarkably sweet voice. Her favorite hymn, which we used to hear her
singing to herself as she walked through the yard, is one of the oddest
we have heard:--

"What makes old Satan follow me so?
Satan got nuttin' 't all fur to do wid me.

CHORUS.

"Tiddy Rosa, hold your light!
Brudder Tony, hold your light!
All de member, hold bright light
On Canaan's shore!"

This is one of the most spirited shouting-tunes. "Tiddy" is their word
for sister.

A very queer-looking old man came into the store one day. He was dressed
in a complete suit of brilliant Brussels carpeting. Probably it had been
taken from his master's house after the "gun-shoot"; but he looked so
very dignified that we did not like to question him about it. The people