The best substitute for a dinner is a sleep under a south wall in the blazing sun; and there are plenty of south walls in Port of Spain.

In the French islands, I am told, such Lazzaroni are caught up and set to Government work, as 'strong rogues and masterless men,' after the ancient English fashion.

But is such a course fair?
If a poor man neither steals, begs, nor rebels (and these people do not do the two latter), has he not as much right to be idle as a rich man?
To say that neither has a right to be idle is, of course, sheer socialism, and a heresy not to be tolerated.
Next, the stranger will remark, here as at Grenada, that every one he passes looks strong, healthy, and well-fed.

One meets few or none of those figures and faces, small, scrofulous, squinny, and haggard, which disgrace the so-called civilisation of a British city.

Nowhere in Port of Spain will you see such human beings as in certain streets of London, Liverpool, or Glasgow.