this kind to a fondly remmembered home of childhood was able to afford.
After viewing the old house and its immediate surroundings, I went to the family burying-ground in search of the weather-stained vault, which contained the earthly remains of near and dear relatives, among others, of a sister and a brother, whose faces I never beheld after I left Cuba to go to New Orleans to school. The ivy and the myrtle grew so thick about it as almost to hide the inscription; and yet there was something beautiful in the appearance of the spot, which marked it as the fitting resting-place for the beloved dead. As I stood by this vault, and thought how lonely I was in the world, and how unpropitious the future seemed, I thought that if it could be the will of God that my spirit should be taken to him self, I would gladly have my body rest here beside those of my brother and sister. I was reluctant to leave the place, but felt impelled to go on and seek the destiny that awaited me in another land, and resolved to be as courageous as ever in meeting whatever fate or position the future might have in store for me. Before leaving the tomb I knelt down to pluck some ivy leaves, to carry away as remembrances, but as I stretched out my hand to gather them, something restrained me, and I went away empty-handed as I had come.
I remained in the old homestead, enjoying the hospitality of my cousins, until the arrival of the steamer, and then said farewell to St. Lucia my visit to it having been the happiest episode of my journey.
