Forty to fifty miles a day, always under a weight of more than a hundred
pounds,--for when the trait has been emptied she puts in stones for
ballast;--carrying her employer's merchandise and money over the
mountain ranges, beyond the peaks, across the ravines, through the
tropical forest, sometimes through by-ways haunted by the
fer-de-lance,--and this in summer or winter, the season of rains or the
season of heat, the time of fevers or the time of hurricanes, at a franc
a day!... How does she live upon it?
[Illustration: FORT-DE-FRANCE
_View from the old fortifications. In the distance
the bay, and beyond Trois Islets, where
Josephine was born._]
There are twenty sous to the franc. The girl leaves St. Pierre with her
load at early morning. At the second village, Morne Rouge, she halts to
buy one, two, or three biscuits at a sou apiece; and reaching
Ajoupa-Bouillon later in the forenoon, she may buy another biscuit or
two. Altogether she may be expected to eat five sous of biscuit or bread
before reaching Grande Anse, where she probably has a meal waiting for
her. This ought to cost her ten sous,--especially if there be meat in
her ragoût: which represents a total expense of fifteen sous for
eatables. Then there is the additional cost of the cheap liquor, which
she must mix with her drinking-water, as it would be more than dangerous
to swallow pure cold water in her heated condition; two or three sous
more. This almost makes the franc. But such a hasty and really erroneous
estimate does not include expenses of lodging and clothing;--she may
sleep on the bare floor sometimes, and twenty francs a year may keep her
in clothes; but she must rent the floor and pay for the clothes out of
that franc. As a matter of fact she not only does all this upon her
twenty sous a day, but can even economize something which will enable
her, when her youth and force decline, to start in business for herself.
And her economy will not seem so wonderful when I assure you that
thousands of men here--huge men muscled like bulls and lions—-live upon
an average expenditure of five sous a day. One sou of bread, two sous of
manioc flour, one sou of dried codfish, one sou of tafia: such is their
meal.
There are women carriers who earn more than a franc a day,--women with a
particular talent for selling, who are paid on commission--from ten to
fifteen per cent. These eventually make themselves independent in many
instances;--they continue to sell and bargain in person, but hire a
young girl to carry the goods.
X
... "_Ou 'lè mâchonne!_" rings out a rich alto, resonant as the tone
of a gong, from behind the balisiers that shut in our garden. There are
two of them--no, three--Maiyotte, Chéchelle, and Rina. Maiyotte and
Chéchelle have just arrived from St. Pierre;--Rina comes from
Gros-Morne with fruits and vegetables. Suppose we call them all in, and
see what they have got. Maiyotte and Chéchelle sell on commission; Rina
sells for her mother, who has a little garden at Gros-Morne.
... "_Bonjou', Maiyotte;--bonjou', Chéchelle! comment ou kallé, Rina,
chè!_"... Throw open the folding-doors to let the great trays pass....
Now all three are unloaded by old Théréza and by young Adou;--all the
packs are on the floor, and the water-proof wrappings are being
uncorded, while Ah-Manmzell, the adopted child, brings the rum and water
for the tall walkers.
... "Oh, what a medley, Maiyotte!"... Inkstands and wooden cows; purses
and paper dogs and cats; dolls and cosmetics; pins and needles and soap
and tooth-brushes; candied fruits and smoking-caps; _pelotes_ of thread,
and tapes, and ribbons, and laces, and Madeira wine; cuffs, and collars,
and dancing-shoes, and tobacco sachets.... But what is in that little
flat bundle? Presents for your _guêpe_, if you have one....
_Jesis-Maïa!_--the pretty foulards! Azure and yellow in checkerings;
orange and crimson in stripes; rose and scarlet in plaidings; and bronze
tints, and beetle-tints of black and green.
"Chéchelle, what a _bloucoutoum_ if you should ever let that tray
fall--_aïe yaïe yaïe!_" Here is a whole shop of crockeries and
porcelains;--plates, dishes, cups,--earthen-ware _canaris_ and
_dobannes_; and gift-mugs and cups bearing creole girls' names,--all
names that end in _ine_: "Micheline, Honorine, Prospérine" [you will
never sell that, Chéchelle: there is not a Prospérine this side of St.
Pierre], "Azaline, Leontine, Zéphyrine, Albertine, Chrysaline, Florine,
Coralline, Alexandrine."... And knives and forks, and cheap spoons, and
tin coffee-pots, and tin rattles for babies, and tin flutes for horrid
little boys,--and pencils and note-paper and envelopes!...
... "Oh, Rina, what superb oranges!--fully twelve inches round!...
and these, which look something like our mandarins, what do
you call them? Zorange-macaque!" (monkey-oranges). And here are
avocados--beauties!--guavas of three different kinds,--tropical cherries
(which have four seeds instead of one),--tropical raspberries, whereof
the entire eatable portion comes off in one elastic piece, lined with
something like white silk.... Here are fresh nutmegs: the thick green
case splits in equal halves at a touch; and see the beautiful heart
within,--deep dark glossy red, all wrapped in a bright net-work of flat
blood-colored fibre, spun over it like branching veins.... This big
heavy red-and-yellow thing is a _pomme-cythère_: the smooth cuticle,
bitter as gall, covers a sweet juicy pulp, interwoven with something
that seems like cotton thread.... Here is a _pomme-cannelle_: inside its
scaly covering is the most delicious yellow custard conceivable with
little black seeds floating in it. This larger _corossol_ has almost as
delicate an interior, only the custard is white instead of yellow....
Here are _christophines_,--great pear-shaped things, white and green,
according to kind, with a peel prickly and knobby as the skin of a homed
toad; but they stew exquisitely. And _mélongènes_, or egg-plants; and
palmiste-pith, and _chadèques_, and _pommes-d'Haïti_,--and roots that
at first sight look all alike, but they are not: there are _camanioc_,
and couscous, and _choux-caraïbes_, and _zignames_, and various kinds
of patates among them. Old Théréza's magic will transform these
shapeless muddy things, before evening, into pyramids of smoking
gold,--into odorous porridges that will look like messes of molten amber
and liquid pearl;--for Rina makes a good sale.
Then Chéchelle manages to dispose of a tin coffee-pot and a big
canari.... And Maiyotte makes the best sale of all; for the sight of a
funny _biscuit_ doll has made Ah-Manmzell cry and smile so at the same
time that I should feel unhappy for the rest of my life if I did not buy
it for her. I know I ought to get some change out of that six
francs;--and Maiyotte, who is black but comely as the tents of Kedar, as
the curtains of Solomon, seems to be aware of the fact.
Oh, Maiyotte, how plaintive that pretty sphinx face of yours, now turned
in profile;--as if you knew you looked beautiful thus,--with the great
gold circlets of your ears glittering and swaying as you bend! And why
are you so long, so long untying that poor little canvas
purse?--fumbling and fingering it?--is it because you want me to think
of the weight of that trait and the sixty kilometres you must walk, and
the heat, and dust, and all the disappointments? Ah, you are cunning,
Maiyotte! No, I do not want the change!