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14 They seldom eat fruit except in the morning - and never of two kinds at once. Bananas I found pleasant - although like tomatoes it requires some cultivation of the taste to relish them. The market boats - loaded with produce - drawn up on the beach - looked somewhat business like. This place was also the place of landing - from the shipping. All goods have to be lightered to the shore as there are no docks or pier. It is almost impossible to get a bungie to go out in - and if one is procured at enormous rates - the passenger is hardly sure of attaining his purpose. We were much amused by one of our men Gregory - a large surly fellow - who notwithstanding dispising to be sick - was unwell most of the time. He was forbidden by the doctor to eat pine apples - but knowing what agreed with him - still clung to the fruit. His sickness kept on day after day - but "no! I know it is not from the pine apples I eat." Finally disinclined to restrain his appetite and finding sympathy growing scarce - he inclined to hide his fruit. Every morning we could see him returning from the market - with his hunts [?] behind him - and the pine apple snugly hidden in the lee of his huge back. Parrots and Parroquets - are about the only cage birds I saw in the city. These are numberous. They are screaming or jabbering Spanish at almost every door. The finest one I saw was near our quarters. He had quite a vocabulary of sentences - and one day I was arrested by hearing him singing a regular church chant. I thought at first the priests were out in some procession - but I soon perceived it was Poll who had assumed the surplice and stole. At the house of the Alcade opposite was a large Macaw - his plumage was bright and clean - but other than swinging himself about on the rail of the balcony - he possessed no interest. When the rains commenced there was a general scream among the race of Parrots. The first shaver I noticed a number of parrots of our neighbors - picking their wings - rumpling their feathers - and swinging upon the branches of a orange shrub whither they had flown. I sometimes felt annoyed when hearing the birds talking Spanish so glibly - while I could hardly string two words together. I was almost as much surprised as the Englishman who wrote home from Paris - that such was the education of the Parisians that even small children could talk French fluently.