CHRISTMAS IN THE TROPICS.

Evening Star, Issue 13002, 22 December 1906, Page 4

CHRISTMAS IN THE TROPICS.

• There is no real Christmas for the while than in tho tropics. The festival does not belong to him, but to the dnsky natives, whose personality and movement dominate the season. The' pale face disappears into seclusion, where lie sits with the ghests of old Ohristmas-Udos, or, if children be about, makes some faint endeavor to import the spirit of the North into the incongruous conditions. Yuletidc is associated with snow and frost and jingling sleigh bells. with bright hearths and mistletoe and holly and the pantomime, but in the equatorial belt one lias perpetual sunshine, aud lives languidly in the shade, where tho temperature roaches 80deg ere the day is done. For decorations the lignum vitro is used, with its wealth of lilac blossoms, or tho dark, shining branches of the orange trees carrving their golden freight, or, what is found by every wayside, tlie snow-white belle of the ” Christmas-pop.” On Christmas Eve the exile lounges in a rocker in the wide verandah thinking of home. The air is strident with tho whistling of cicadre and starred with the pulsing lights of fireflies, , but ear and eyo have grown so accustomed to these that they are unheard and unseen, and do not disturb the quietude of the night. Neither does tho Iragrance of one’s cigar kill the keen perfume of the jasmine, whose tracery of leaves screens the verandah, nor the lingering scents from flowers now asleep that are waited on tho soft rushes of wind from tlio garden beyond. At nine o’clock one retires. No blanket or sheet is necessary; Only tlio thinnest coverlet, and a mosquito net, aud the windows and jalousies remain wido open. In tlio night one is awakened by a sense of something untoward, which rasolves itself into the strain of strange melodies, sung by bands of negro young people marching to tho town —old-time-songs of passion and pathos that move and haunt one even in sloop. Long ere sun-up bells begin to peal, for services are held in all tho churches.' By five o’clock the buildings oro overflowing. ; Tlie next move is to tlio market, where E’ tactically the entire population assemles. This is the day of days to the native, when all, in obedience to an un(written social law, endeavor to appear in mew apparel. It is their annual dress .parade. For months previously the clothes of the town have been steadily on tho down grade. Little is bought, and people grow more and more shabby and disreputable. The dawn of Christmas sees a complete transformation, and the scene is gorgeous and unforgettable. There is nothing 1 esthetic in the display, and the hues worn seldom harmonise, but the general effect is picturesque in the. extreme. Here, for instance, is a comely negress with her hus.band. She wears a pink hat and groan blouse, a white skirt with a crimson sash, and a pair of , white satin shoes. In one hand she holds a scarlet parasol and in the other flies a balloon. He is attired in a black morning coat ard white rest, striped’ . pants, a straw hat with a red band, and brown boots. Ho carries a cane, and is blowing a ruby-colored “ fee-foe.” Such j is tho individual composition of the crowd. ;i [ Thousands of children glance in and out 1 like chips of rainbow, each vigorously swinging a rattle. Strange and bizarre as it all seems, ono would not wisji it changed. I It” fits in with the riotous coloring and 1 luxuriance of nature and the inccnscaucnco

of things where one sees a blazing poinciana on a coal wharf and graceful palms shadowing a squalid lean-tp. The crush is greatest' in the market aisles, where beef and breadkind, bright •piles of fruit and trinkets, are exposed for ■ ‘sale, and where a lusty band contributes to'the din. Tho negro cannot resist the influence of music, and here and there a space clears and impromptu dancing goes on. Order and good humor prevail, and any, white visitor who ventures in comes out perspiring but seathless, • for there is so polite and accommodating as a welldressed member of the black race. _ By ten o’clock the interest of the proceedings has been exhausted, and the people begin to return to their homes, the more extravagant in heavy open carriages hired from the undertaker, in which they drive showily through every street. Dinner and a siesta follow, and the day is rounded off by parties and dignity balls. The white exile has meanwhile been mooning through the hot hours in a hammock under tho palms, watching tho humming birds and banana quits, or turning over tho Christmas numbers of the Home magazines, and feeling that his surroundings have for once lost their glamor and charm. He grows restless as darkness falls, and wanders furtively out and through the town. The homes are as an open book. In tho yards of the poor ho observes'the negroes 'dancing by the light of flaring oil lamps, while the ball rooms of the well-to-do colored class are crowded with guests, who stop into gardens illuminated with colored lights, and sit and oat ioo-croam under the stars. Everywhere gaiety and pleasure abound ; the night thrills with the spirit of human love and fellowship ; but the lonely watcher of another race and another bind feels that he is beyond the range of it all. Ho turns in again, not envious or bitter, but only heartsick for tho old conditions and his own kin.

It is tho penalty of exile, this experience, this annual upheaval of the foundations of one’s nature. It does not often occur at other periods, but with tl» advent of the season of good-will and reunion it comes inevitably and is irremediable. Tho saving factor is the belief that friends at Homo are thinking of one with added tenderness and softer heart. It is the beat kindness that such can render, the richest gift they can give,, to those whom fate has stationed, far out in tho homeless regions of tho world. —W. 1?. Idvingslone, in ‘St, James’s Gazette.'