VIII
Floor of copper, floor of gold.... Beyond the custom-house door, ajar the street at sunrise seemed aflame.
“Have you nothing, young man, to declare?”
“... Butterflies!”
“Exempt of duty. Pass.”
Floor of silver, floor of pearl....
Trailing a muslin net, and laughing for happiness, Charlie Mouth marched into the town.
Oh, Cuna-Cuna! Little city of Lies and Peril! How many careless young nigger boys have gone thus to seal their Doom?