Falling to with our hoes again, we worked singly, or together, as
occasion required, until "Nooning Time" came.
The period, so called by the planters, embraced about three hours in
the middle of the day; during which it was so excessively hot, in
this still, brooding valley, shut out from the Trades, and only open
toward the leeward side of the island, that labour in the sun was out
of the question. To use a hyperbolical phrase of Shorty's, "It was
'ot enough to melt the nose h'off a brass monkey."
Returning to the house, Shorty, assisted by old Tonoi, cooked the
dinner; and, after we had all partaken thereof, both the Cockney and
Zeke threw themselves into one of the hammocks, inviting us to occupy
the other. Thinking it no bad idea, we did so; and, after skirmishing
with the mosquitoes, managed to fall into a doze. As for the
planters, more accustomed to "Nooning," they, at once, presented a
nuptial back to each other; and were soon snoring away at a great
rate. Tonoi snoozed on a mat, in one corner.
At last, we were roused by Zeke's crying out, "Up b'ys; up! rise, and
shine; time to get at it agin!"
Looking at the doctor, I perceived, very plainly, that he had decided
upon something.
In a languid voice, he told Zeke that he was not very well:
