70

CORVO GIRLS AT A FOUNTAIN.

gourds. They were evidently not accustomed to

see strangers, were inquisitive, sociable, and merry. One woman begged so earnestly that I would give her my pocket-handkerchief, that it was quite impossible to refuse her. The bright colour had struck her fancy, and from the concealment of my pocket it was at once elevated to become one of the most showy head-dresses in Corvo.

We sketched a few figures, to the great amusement of the women, and then returned to

BOATMEN.-WEATHER.

our good friend the priest.

71

We found him

kneeling at his evening prayers. The sun was going down in amber light behind the dusky island of Flores, and shone directly upon the grave old man. He noticed us, as we came to the door, by a slight motion of the head and hand, stopped for one moment to point to a chair, and then went on with his prayers in a low tone of voice, and with much cheerfulness of manner. the window, to whom he gave some order, and then continued his devotions; until at last he came to the close, shut the book, and turned round to welcome us. He could speak a few words of English, and sent out for two decent men who could speak more, that we might make arrangements with them for going up the mountain in the morning. In the midst of these arrangements our boatmen came in, and rather clamorously insisted that it was necessary to return to Flores at once, as there would shortly be a change in the weather. However, the sky was as calm and settled as we could have wished; and the old priest, who had had seventy years' experience in Azorean skies, agreed with us in thinking there was no fear of a storm. We

Before he had finished a boy passed

therefore found a very simple way of getting rid of our men, with which they seemed well contented, and Padre Lopes turned round to us as they marched off, with the assurance that we could not believe one word such persons said, though it was different, he said, "with the priests and that sort of people."

We were struck in our walk with the large number of handsome women and children, whose style of beauty was entirely different from that of the women of St. Michael's. Their features were very regular; their noses thin, prominent, and sometimes finely cut; their upper lips short and slightly turned outwards, the under lip exactly matching it, and the whole mouth of good size and perfectly regular; the line of the junction of the lips slightly curled upwards, the cheek-bones rather prominent, and the face long, and somewhat triangular. The eyes of many were grey, and light hazel. In St. Michael's the women's eyes are large and very black, and deeply set; neither the mouth nor nose is regular, the mouth being very large, with full lips; the face short, with projecting cheek-bones; and the complexions more sallow. The Corvoites are browner. Their dress gave them the appearance of very poor

people, but my eye speedily became accustomed to it; and, as it is entirely of their own manufacture and of their own taste, I soon preferred it to that part of the costume of the St. Michael's peasants, which they copy from the English. The women cover their heads with white or variously coloured handkerchiefs. They wear a closely fitting short jacket, generally of coarse black cloth, (made like the upper part of a riding-habit,) a coloured handkerchief beneath it, and a very full blue petticoat, like coarse camlet, with an ornamental border, four inches deep, of alternate narrow stripes of white, blue, red, and yellow. Some, instead of the jacket, wore a short great coat of a coarse, rough, greyish-brown cloth, reaching to the knees, and this was the common upper garment for the little girls. The beauty belonged chiefly to the younger women, as is the case among the poor all over the world. Hard work, poverty, exposure, cares, children, and time, make sad havoc with a handsome woman's face. Among the more wealthy, dress may partially conceal the ravages that are inevitable, and attention and the comforts of life may delay them, or the constant exercise and interchange of kind feelings and sober thoughts may make, as some

poet has said, an autumnal face more pleasing than a spring or summer one; but where there are neither turbans, caps, curls, rouge, nor waxlights; none of the ordinary comforts of life, and all its hardships; where marriages are very early, and children very abundant; it is not surprising that the varnish is soon rubbed off, and the lacker tarnished.

mass.

April 24, Wednesday. As early as half-past four this morning the Padre Lopes was stirring; and shortly afterwards walked out to the early After this was over he returned to breakfast, and arranged our beasts for the mountain. We were variously accommodated with these. The horses—as they were liberally called — were three sorrel ponies, of the height and size of rough heifers, standing to one another in the relation of grandfather, father, and son, and which, from poor living and weak constitutions, had each dwindled down to the condition of Lismahago's horse, a resurrection of dry bones. One belonged to the priest, and was caparisoned with such a saddle and bridle as are seen on rockinghorses and pictures of Rosinante; another was accommodated with a canvass cloth, tied tightly over his back; and the third was furnished with