ously called Ficus indica, or banyan tree of India. It has the same habit of growth as the banyan, sending down fibers which sink into the soil. These fibers take root, and in turn become parent trunks, shooting out new branches, which in time suspend their roots, and these, swelling into trunks, produce still other branches. All these trees bear fruit, but the figs are small and unfit for eating. Ficus carica, the fig of commerce, and the India-rubber tree belong to the same family, and are all characterized by a milky juice. On these islands there are large timber trees, including, among others, the mahogany, mastic, lignum vitæ, etc. Some trees, like the cinnamon, are valuable for their bark; others, like the logwood and fustic, are useful for their dyes. On one of our several pleasant excursions we drove through the pine woods and palmettos to Lake Killarney. Here we saw the only species of pine growing on the island (Pinus bahamensis), and along the roadside we noticed the beautiful and conspicuous shrub, the sappens (Chrysophyllum oliveforme), with its shining green leaves above, and below a down of rich golden-brown color. The shores of the lake are lined with mangrove trees, which send out aërial roots from their branches. They descend in arched fashion, strike at some distance from the parent stem, and send up new trunks, spreading like the banyan. The south shore of the island is also overrun with the mangrove, the salt water at high tide surrounding many of the bushes, giving a curious effect for miles along the shore.
Other excursions that we took included the bathing beach, the caves to the west of Nassau, and the remarkable Lake of Waterloo, which should be visited after dark in order that its wonderful phosphorescence may be seen. The greatest charm and wonder was a sail of three to six miles to the sea garden. Leaving the sailboat, we stepped into a dory with a glass bottom, through which the mysteries of the deep were as plainly seen as if only at the depth of a pail of water. On the white sand, fifteen or twenty feet below us, we saw coral, sea fans, and sponges, while exquisitely colored fish darted in and out among the waving forms of life.
Several times in the early morning we visited the market, which is of great interest. Here it is not infrequent to see three or four tomatoes, as many onions, and a little piece of garlic arranged together on a barrel head. The sale of two or three such lots constitutes a day's business, for the needs of the people are small. The natives walk from the surrounding country to the city, bringing the fruit in baskets or trays balanced on their heads. The sapodilla is one of the cheapest and most abundant of fruits. The tree is very handsome with its glossy foliage, and freely bears a chocolate-colored fruit about the shape of a peach and as variable in size. These
