Gonaives is a poor-looking town, constantly devastated by revolutions and fires, with a few broad, unfinished streets, and some good houses among the crowds of poor-looking buildings. This neighbourhood is famous for what are called white truffles. They are dried and sent to the different parts of the republic. St. Marc, though not so scattered as Gonaives, is a small place. It was formerly built of stone; a few specimens of this kind of building still remain. Jacmel has a very unsafe harbour, but possesses importance as one of the ports at which the royal mail steamers call, and has a large export trade in coffee. Les Cayes, Jérémie, and other smaller ports I have only seen at a distance, but I hear they are much like the other cities and towns of the republic. Mackenzie says that the city and environs of Les Cayes are described as “très riante,” and that in his time it was kept in better order than the capital. This is said still to be the case. My last long ride in Hayti was from Cap Haïtien to Gonaives, and nestling in the hills I found some very pretty villages, planted in lovely sites, with fresh, babbling streams, and fruit groves hiding the inferior-looking houses. The place I most admired was, I think, called Plaisance. There was a freshness, a brightness, a repose about the village that made me regret it was situated so far from the capital. Wherever you may ride in the mountains, you cannot fail to remark that there is scarcely a decent-looking house out of the towns. The whole of the country is abandoned to the small cultivators, whose inferior cottages are met with at every turn, and, as might be expected from such a population, very dirty and devoid of every comfort, rarely any furniture beyond an old chair, a rickety table, a few sleeping-mats, and some cooking utensils. There is no rule, however, without an exception, and I remember being much struck by seeing at Kenskoff, a small hamlet about ten or twelve miles direct from Port-au-Prince, a good house, where there were some chairs, tables, and bedsteads, and around this dwelling several huts, in which the wives of our host lived separately. Now and then a peasant will build a larger house than usual; we met with one, the last we slept in on our ride to the mountain, La Selle, whose proprietor had really some ideas of comfort, and before whose dwelling coffee-plants were growing, trimmed to the height of six feet, planted separate from one another, perfectly clean, and covered with indications of an abundant crop. They had been planted there in former days by an intelligent proprietor, and the peasant had the merit of not neglecting them.