My Tropic Isle | Page 9

foot on our
haughty, sun-favoured necks.
"It is still the use of fortune To let the wretched man outlive his wealth,
To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow An age of poverty."
May Heaven and our thrift avert the fate!
The nervous intensity, the despotic self-sufficiency of this easy and
indifferent existence may expose us to taunts; but how sublimely
ineffective the taunts which are never heard and which, if heard
through echoing mischance, would provoke but serene smiles; for have
we not avoided the aches of uniformity, the seriousness of prosperity,
most of the trash of civilisation, and the scorn of Fortune when she
sniggers?
How magnificently slender, too, is our boasted independence! What
superb economists are we! Astonishment follows upon an audit of our
slipshod accounts at the amount spent unconsciously on small things
which do not directly affect the actual cost of living. Taking the mean
of several years' expenditure, the item "postage stamps" is a little larger
than the cost of my own clothing and boots. The average annual cost of
stamps has been £5 4s.; clothing and boots, £4 12s. Indeed, this latter
item is inflated, since, while I have stamps worth only a few shillings
on hand, clothes are in stock sufficient (in main details) to last twelve
months. The "youthful hose, well kept," with other everlasting drapery

brought from civilisation, is still wearable. The original clothing, such
as conformity with the rules of the streets implies, remains serviceable,
however obsolete in "style," which is another word for fashion, "that
pitiful, lackey-like creature which struts through one country in the
cast-off finery of another." For the privilege of citizenship in what, at
present, is the freest country in the world my direct taxation amounts to
£1 5s. per annum; and, since "luxuries" are not in demand, indirect
contributions to State and Commonwealth are so trivial that they fail to
excite the most sensitive of the emotions. All our household is in
harmony with this quiet tune, and yet we have not conquered our
passion for thrift but merely disciplined it.
A young missionary who became a great bishop, after some experience
of "the wilds," expressed the opinion that there were but six
necessaries--shelter, fuel, water, fire, something to eat, and blankets.
Our practical tests, extending over twelve years, would tend to the
reduction of the list. For the best part of the year one item--blankets--is
superfluous. Water and fuel are so abundant that they count almost as
cheaply as the air we breathe; but we do lust after a few clothes--a very
few--which the good missionary did not catalogue. Our essentials
would therefore be--shelter, something to eat, and a "little" to wear.
Fire is included under "something to eat," for it is absolutely
unnecessary for warmth. We do still appreciate a warm meal. Our
house contains no means for the production of heat, save the kitchen
stove.
Fruit, vegetables, milk, eggs, poultry, fish, and nearly all the meat
consumed--emergency stocks of tinned goods are in reserve--are as
cheap as water and fuel. Our unsullied appetites demand few
condiments. Why olives, when if need be--and the need has not yet
manifested itself--as shrewd a relish and as cleansing a flavour is to be
obtained from the pale yellow flowers of the male papaw, steeped in
brine--a decoration and a zest combined? Our mango chutney
etherealises our occasional salted goat-mutton--and we know that the
chutney is what it professes to be.
What more wholesome and pleasant a dish than papaw beaten to mush,
saturated with the juice of lime, sweetened with sugar, and made
fantastic with spices? What more enticing, than stewed mango--golden
and syrupy--with junket white as marble; or fruit salad compact of

pineapple, mango, papaw, granadilla, banana, with lime juice and
powdered sugar?
We lack not for spring chicken or roast duck whenever there is the wish;
for the best part of the year eggs are despicably common. Every low
tide advertises oysters gratis, and occasionally crabs and crayfish for
the picking up. Delicate as well as wholesome and nutritious food is
ours at so little cost that our debt to smiling Nature, if she kept records
and tendered her accounts, would be somewhat embarrassing. And if
Nature frowns with denial and there are but porridge and goat's milk
and eggs and home-made bread and jam, thank goodness she blesses
such fare with unjaded appreciation!
Since deprived of the society of blacks, our domestic expenditure has
dwindled by nearly one-half. Indeed, it is almost as costly to feed and
clothe three blacks as to provide essentials for three whites of frugal
tastes. Here are a few items of annual domestic expenditure, proffered
not in the spirit of gloating over our simplicity or of delighting in
economy of luxuries, but to illustrate how few are the