Two Years in the French West Indies

ouds are, it is beautifully mottled,-looks like blue marble with exquisite veinings and nebulosities.... Tepid wind, and cottony white

blue water-he declares it greenish (verdatre). Because I cannot discern the

ky. As I doze it seems to burn like a cold fire right through my eyelids. Waking up with a start, I fancy that everything is turning blue,-myself included. "Do you not call this the r

. There is a long ground-swell, the steamer rocks and rolls, and the tumbling water always seems to me growing bluer; bu

n of life in the azure gulf above, nor in the abyss beneath-there are no wings or fins to be seen. Towards evening, under the sl