In 1841 the last parish to be created in the history of Jamaica, Metcalfe, was formed out of the parishes of St. Mary and St. George, whereby Middlesex again gained land, this time at the expense of Surrey. The parishes then numbered twenty-two. In 1844 an Act (8 Vic. c. 39) was passed defining the boundaries of Kingston Harbour. In 1867, as part of the reformation scheme of Sir John Peter Grant, was passed the law for the reduction of the number of parishes. In Surrey, Kingston, was increased by taking part of St. Andrew, a part of the parish and the whole town of Port Royal. St. Andrew took the remaining part of Port Royal parish; and St. David was merged into St. Thomas-in-the-East, and St. George into Portland, which also took the Manchioneal district of St. Thomas-in-the-East. In Middlesex the recently created parish of Metcalfe was merged into the parish of St. Mary. St. Thomas-in-the-Vale, St. John, and St. Dorothy were all merged into St. Catherine, and Vere again became part of Clarendon; St. Ann and Manchester remaining as they were. In Cornwall there was no alteration, the five parishes remaining as they were. In 1900 Port Royal was made a separate parish for municipal purposes, remaining still part of the electoral district of Kingston. Of names given owing to natural features, there are numbers in Jamaica—the Blue Mountains; the Red Hills; the Great, White, Swift, Dry, and Milk Rivers; Green Island; Dry Harbour; Dry Mountains; the Round Hill (in Vere), and so on. The Y. S. River (pronounced Wyers) is, Long tells us, so called from the Gallic word Y. S., which signifies crooked or winding. Another authority says the name of the property was Wyess, and its commercial mark for shipping purposes was Y. S. Labour-in-vain Savannah in St. Elizabeth is a name perfectly descriptive of its nature. So, too, is Burnt Savannah. The struggle for and the success of emancipation have left their names on many a free negro settlement; some of which, it is to be feared, have not realized their early promise: Clarkson Ville, Sturge Town, Wilberforce, Buxton, Liberty Hill and others. Some names are typical of the simple faith and language of the negro, such as Wait-a-bit and Come-see. Me-no-sen-you-no-come, in Trelawny, must have been named by folk of recluse habits. Others are not euphonious—Fat Hog Quarter, Running Gut (which Lawrence Archer, in his “Monumental Inscriptions of the British West Indies,” thinks may probably be a corruption by some seafaring man of _Harangutta_, a branch of the Ganges), Starve Gut Bay; and one rather wonders whether they are not vulgar corruptions of different designations. We find, however, similar names in the other islands: _Dos d’Ane_ in Dominica, and _Mal d’Estomac_ in Trinidad. On the other hand _Kick-em-Jenny_, the rock between St. Vincent and Grenada, is said to have been originally called _Cay qu’on gêne_—the islet that bothers one, from the roughness of the neighbouring sea.