The dwellings of the inhabitants, as already intimated, are of the rudest and most primitive description, and make no approach to what, in the United States, would be regarded as respectable out-houses. They are, in fact, mere thatched sheds, roughly boarded up and floored, or made of a kind of wicker work of canes, sometimes plastered over with mud. The furniture, which seldom consists of more than a hammock, a high table, a few chairs, and a bed, is entirely in keeping with the edifices. Yet, mean and uninviting as these structures are, they answer a very good purpose in a climate where anything beyond a roof to keep off the sun and the rain may almost be regarded as a superfluity. The heavy thatch of palm leaves or long grass is an effectual protection against these, and though it furnishes excellent quarters for scorpions, small serpents, and other pleasant colonists, yet these soon cease to excite apprehension, and, with the mice and cockroaches, sink into common-places. The sting of the domestic scorpion, so far as I am able to learn of its effects from others, never having myself experienced it, is not much worse than that of a wasp or hornet, and seldom produces any serious result. The _alacran del monte_, scorpion of the forest, or wild scorpion, is more to be dreaded; its sting sometimes induces fever, causing the tongue to swell so as to render utterance difficult, or impossible. This latter never inflicts its sting unless pressed upon, or accidentally disturbed by some part of the person. It is quite as common in San Juan as in any part of the country; being brought there probably with the Brazil wood, the knots and crevices of which afford it an excellent lodgment. And, while upon insects, I may mention a kind of a flea, called _nigua_ or _chigoe_ by the Spaniards, and “_jigger_” by the West Indian English, which generally attacks the feet, working its way, without being felt, beneath the skin, and there depositing its eggs. A small sack speedily forms around these, which constantly increases in size, first creating an itching sensation, and afterwards, unless removed, becoming painful. When small, it may be extracted without difficulty, but when larger, the operation is delicate and often painful; for if the sack is broken, a bad ulcer, extremely liable to inflammation, and sometimes affecting the entire foot and leg, is a probable result. The best surgeon in these cases is an Indian boy, who always performs the operation skillfully, and considers a _medio_ (sixpence) a capital fee for his services. He has a sharp eye for “las niguas,” and will frequently detect them before they are seen or felt by the strangers in whose feet they are burrowing. It is well to submit one’s pedal extremities to his criticism as often as once every three days, while sojourning in San Juan, where this insect is more common than anywhere else in Central America. When to this digression on