I am utterly incapable of giving advice in the matter. I invariably arrange such things particularly badly myself. My plan is always to have no plans. I do in the morning what seems most interesting. In this manner it is probable that I waste much precious time. I have wasted many mornings in the streets of Kingston when I might have been sight-seeing in the hills. But that is my rule. I prefer to have no plans, and I like to avoid the beaten track of the tourist. It is better to lounge always, especially so in the tropics. On a former visit to the island I was with a party who insisted on “doing” everything. We used to get up in the morning at six and go to bed at night at twelve. We lived in buggies and trains and tram-cars. At every point of interest we were stopped and invited to admire something which was eloquently described in the local guide-books. The natives we met were all unnatural. I remember that I expressed a desire to see a native village, and we were driven to a collection of trim huts, and a dozen well-dressed negroes appeared for our inspection. And the fee that was paid to the negroes for having been examined was placed in our bill of expenses. That, I venture to think, is not the best way to see a new country. It is always better to walk than to take a buggy, but if a buggy must be used then it is well to hire it by the hour or day and tell the driver to drive on--to drive in any direction that leads to no particular place. If you take a ride in the tram-cars it is better to sit in the seats used by the natives, the market-women and the labourers, than to loll in the front benches among the white people. If you want to see the market-place don’t take a policeman with you as if you expected to mix with the most abandoned criminals, and if you want an iced Kola go to one of the negro rum-shops for it, and avoid the beautifully-furnished European hotels. The people who “do places” and “see everything” usually mix only with tourists and never get to know the natives. True, they see the scenery and many of the places of interest, but they don’t get to know the life of the place, and they can have no knowledge of its people. If the visitor wants to go to service on Sunday he would find it more interesting to go to a negro meeting-house than to the most popular of the fashionable churches. He would find out more about the inner life of the Jamaican army by ten minutes’ talk with any soldier of the line than by an hour’s interview with the smartest captain or most courteous commanding-officer. It is better to talk with the market women and the black men who deal in native tobacco, with the [Illustration: RESTING BY THE WAY, JAMAICA] water-side porters and the black constables, than it is to attend lectures, or read books, or interview politicians, if you want to know anything about the Jamaican labour problem. And all these things are more or less impossible if you explore Jamaica along the lines of a crowded time-table.