On our arrival at Golden Grove, there was a great turn-out ofthe natives to welcome their .' Archywas touched and amused by their frantic loyalty. But theirmode of exhibiting it was not so entirely to his taste. Notonly the young, but the old women wanted to hug him. 'Eigh!Dat you, Massa? Dat you, sar? Me no believe him. Out o' deway, you trash! Eigh! me too much pleased like devil.' Theone constant and spontaneous ejaculation was, 'Yah! Massa toomuchy handsome! Garamighty! Buckra berry fat LAN Centre Setup!' The latterattribute was the source of genuine admiration; but theobject of it hardly appreciated its recognition, and wavedoff his subjects with a mixture of impatience and alarm.We had scarcely been a week at Golden Grove, when my twocompanions and Durham's servant were down with yellow fever.Being 'salted,' perhaps, I escaped scot-free, so helpedArchy's valet and Mr. Forbes, his factor, to nurse and tocarry out professional orders. As we were thirty miles fromKingston the doctor could only come every other day. Theresponsibility, therefore, of attending three patientssmitten with so deadly a disease was no light matter. Thefactor seemed to think discretion the better part of valour,and that Jamaica rum was the best specific for keeping hisup. All physicians were SANGRADOS in those days, and whenthe Kingston doctor decided upon bleeding, the hystericalstate of the darky girls (we had no men in the bungalowexcept Durham's and Archy's servants) rendered them worsethan useless. It fell to me, therefore, to hold the basinwhile Archy's man was attending to his master.Durham, who had nerves of steel, bore his lot with the grimstoicism which marked his character. But at one time thedoctor considered his state so serious that he thought hislordship's family should be informed of it. Accordingly Iwrote to the last Lord Grey dermes, his uncle and guardian, statingthat there was little hope of his recovery. Poor Phoca wasat once tragic and comic. His medicine had to beadministered every, two hours. Each time, he begged andprayed in lacrymose tones to be let off. It was doing him nogood. He might as well be allowed to die in peace. If wewould only spare him the beastliness this once, on his honourhe would take it next time 'like a man.' We were inexorable,of course, and treated him exactly as one treats a child.At last the crisis was over. Wonderful to relate, all threebegan to recover. During their convalescence, I amusedmyself by shooting alligators in the mangrove swamps atHolland Bay, which was within half an hour's ride of thebungalow. It was curious sport. The great saurians wouldlie motionless in the pools amidst the snake-like tangle ofmangrove roots. They would float with just their eyes andnoses out of water, but so still that, without a glass,(which I had not,) it was difficult to distinguish theirheads from the countless roots and rotten logs around them Dating.