378
Martinique
Sketches.
ateur suggested this request to Cyrillia. I could not attempt such work successfully ; but I gave her a note to a photographer of much skill ; and a few days later the portrait was sent to the house. Cyrillia's daughter was certainly a comely girl,—tall and almost gold-colored, with pleasing features ; and the photograph looked very nice, though less nice than the original. Half the beauty of these people is a beauty of tint, — a tint so exquisite sometimes that I have even heard white créoles declare no white complexion compares with it : the greater part of the charm remaining is grace,—the grace of movement ; and neither of these can be rendered by photography. I had the portrait framed for Cyrillia, to hang up beside her little pictures. When it came, she was not in ; I put it in her room, and waited to see the effect. On returning, she entered there ; and I did not see her for so long a time that I stole to the door of the chamber to observe her. She was standing before the portrait,—looking at it, talking to it as if it were alive. " Yche moin, yche moin !. . . Oui ! ou toutt bel!—yche moin bel." (My child, my child! . . . Yes, thou art all beautiful : my child is beautiful.) All at once she turned—perhaps she noticed my shadow, or felt my presence in some way : her eyes were wet ;—she started, flushed, then laughed. — " A h ! Missié, you watch me;—ou guetté moin. . . . But she is my child. Why should I not love her ? . . . She looks so beautiful there." — " She is beautiful, Cyrillia ; — I love to see you love her." She gazed at the picture a little longer in silence ;— then turned to me again, and asked earnestly :— —"Pouki yo pa ka faipbtrai pàlé—anh?. . . pis se yo ka tiré y toutt samm ou: c'est ou-menm!.. . Yo doué fai y paie 'tou." (Why do they not make a portrait talk,—tell me ? For