[63] The above lines are taken from an epitaph written upon the Dowager Countess of Pembroke, sister to the celebrated Sir Philip Sidney one of the favourite courtiers of Queen Elizabeth, and author of a romance entitled “Arcadia,” which he dedicated to his sister the Countess. On this account it is frequently called “the Countess of Pembroke’s Arcadia.” This lady was noted for her great learning, in an age when classical knowledge was the common accomplishments of the court ladies. Her principal work was a translation of “Antonius,” a French tragedy. “Underneath this marble hearse, Lies the subject of all verse. Sidney’s sister, Pembroke’s mother. Death, ere thou hast kill’d another, Fair, and learn’d, and good as she, Time shall throw a dart at thee.” [64] There is one great peculiarity in this plant which deserves notice. The leaves are cellular, and so formed as to make sure reservoirs for the drops of rain, which fall into them from the top, through small openings. The seeds are furnished with a downy substance, by which means they float through the air, and take root upon any part of a tree or shrub upon which they chance to fall. The leaves always grow erect, by which means they safely hold the rain water. Dampier mentions piercing these plants with his knife, and catching the water in his hat when suffering from thirst. [65] It may be proper to note, that such events are not of everyday occurrence in Antigua. Not more than two “cattle” are slaughtered in the capital in a week, and when such deed is committed the bellman announces it to the public. CHAPTER XVII. The seasons at Antigua—Heavy rains—Long droughts—The water-merchant—A fortunate shower—Drought in 1837—Desolate appearance of the country—Famishing cattle—Definition of “_fine rains_”—Anecdote—Heavy shower—Joy—Earthquakes—1835—Meteors— Dressing for the ball—The alarm—The ball-room—Hurricanes— Devastations. The seasons at Antigua may be divided into the _wet_ and _dry_. The wet season generally commences in July, and continues, with intermissions, until October; and in February we look for it again. The rains in England are but summer dews, comparatively speaking, to the torrents which the overcharged clouds pour down upon these “Isles of the West.” No one but an actual observer can form any idea of the violence of these storms. In a moment the streets are inundated, and the falling of the large drops upon the shingled roofs of the houses is quite deafening.