A
dotting of white frame-houses and curls of blue smoke betray the capital.
It lurks behind the narrow sand-bar which banks the shallow and useless
Mesurado River, and few men land without an involuntary ablution in the
salt water. Usually the stream mouths by an ugly little bar at some
distance from the roadstead; after heavy rains it bursts the sand-strip
and discharges in straight line.
We had visitors that evening from the Yankee-Doodle-niggery colony,
peopled by citizens who are not 'subjects.' Bishop C. C. Pinnock, absent
from his home at Cape Mount, dined with us and told me about the death of
an old friend, good Bishop Payne. His successor objects to learning and
talking native tongues, and he insists upon teaching English to all the
mission-scholars. His reasons are shrewd, if not convincing; for instance,
'most languages,' says the Right Reverend, 'have some term which we
translate "love." But "love" in English is not equivalent to its
representative in Kru or in Vai. Therefore by using their words I am
expressing their ideas; I bring them over to mine by the reverse process.'
We shipped for Grand Bassa two citizens, a lawyer and an attorney.
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