But if the ignorant negro is foolish, his foolishness is as nothing sometimes to that of the white man who sets out to help and improve him. Britain is not always wise in the Governors she chooses, though the Governor in a small community is a powerful means to good. There was one wellmeaning man in an island that shall be nameless, who was certainly most desirous to help the black people, therefore it occurred to him one day to send a telegram to a rich planter of his acquaintance, asking him to come and see him as he had something of importance to discuss with him. Now, a request from a Governor is almost a royal command, but our planter knew his Governor. He was busy, and he did not there and then dash off and travel the many miles that lay between him and Government House. Still, since his estate was a long way off, he came at some inconvenience to himself. And the first greetings over: “You have the welfare of your people at heart, Mr--------?” “Surely, sir.” “I wanted to know--would you be prepared to put up a picture show?” “On my place, sir?” “Why, yes, of course, for the benefit of your hands.” “But--but----I'm at least five-and-twenty miles from the port, and the port is at least six days from New York, and----” “Yes, of course, I know that.” “And where am I to get fresh pictures?” The Governor looked attentive. “They would come to the first show,” explained the planter patiently, “and enjoy it, they would come to the second night, the third night they'd grumble, and after that they'd laugh at me for a fool.” “H'm--ha--h'm. Well, what about dancing? They're fond of dancing?” “Of course.” “Would you put them up a dancing hall?” “With a floor?” “Of course.” And the planter sighed again for his wasted time, for everyone--except this Governor apparently--knows that the West Indian negro dances every night of his life very happily on the bare earth by the light of the stars or the moon! And I agree with the planter such exercise is a great deal more wholesome taken in the fresh air as the plantation hands are content to take it. That planter went home an angry man, and he was met by his still more angry head man, who had taken his boots to be mended. “Massa--massa--” he stammered furiously, “dat man--dat tief--boots no mended--he wearing dem. Massa--massa, can I have him up for breach of promise?” But if anyone is really interested in peasant life in Jamaica he should read the books of Herbert de Lisser, C.M.G., whose country will some day be deeply grateful to him that he has--among other things he has done for her--portrayed to the life a type that is rapidly passing away.