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.