When I asked him why he returned home, if he had any relatives there, or a house and land, his mouth parted in a gay smile, and he replied, “ Oui, le sucre est bon, il est doux pour les enfants! ” and he winked at the servants.

I did not catch his meaning, but the group of servants burst out laughing.

“No, I have nothing of the sort, but still I should always want to go back,” he explained to me. “I go home because there is always a something that draws one to one’s native place.” And once more he repeated with a shrewd, self-satisfied smile, his phrase, “ Oui, le sucre est bon ,” and then laughed good-naturedly.