Most visitors think their tour incomplete without a palmetto hat; but who of the many that purchase asks, or cares, where these home-made articles were produced--what thoughts were woven by the light-hearted workers--what fancies flitted through the brain of the dark-eyed maiden, in whose veins flows the blood of a foreign clime. The Florida pampas-grass, gathered from the surrounding swamps, is much used in ornamenting China vases and ladies' hats, together with the excrescent growths from the tall cypress-trees. Each countryman's cart has a marsh-hen, blue crane, or a box of live alligators, seeking to make money and divert the attention of curiosity-seeking persons. All visitors will, no doubt, be solicited, freely and frequently, by the different crafts, to make an investment; but it is all nothing. Everybody has to make a support in some way--as the little boy replied to the Northerner who asked him how the people all lived down here in this sandy country. The lad replied, "Off from sweet taters and sick Yankees." It has hitherto been a prolific source of entertainment for those who have been here to listen to the narrations of old settlers. The tide of memory never fails them. They can relate things that occurred long anterior to the current of their existence, with the same unbroken connection of circumstances as though they were among the events of yesterday. Most of the old settlers are dead now; but the legends live with the younger ones--the legendary transfer having been made without any apparent diminution of the marvelous. Our days here pass in peaceful quietude, the time moving on with imperceptible speed; but the daily records would not fill a page in history, or supply material for a romance. An incident occasionally takes place, which stirs the under-current of life a little--as the capsizing of a yacht, catching a big fish, shark, or alligator. Adventurers who come here seeking employment do not receive a hearty welcome. The natives look upon that class of persons as a kind of interlopers, who want to suck the sweets from their oranges, and lick the sirup from their bread, without paying them for it. Persons here from Northern climes are expected to spend the winter in breathing the balmy air, canopied with skies clothed in the softest radiance of a summer sun, and praising every thing they see. If they have any doubt in regard to what they hear, let them lock it in secret, and keep silent until they leave; for the inhabitants think that this was once the paradise of the Peri, which will some day be restored to its pristine loveliness.