Summary

Almira Stillwell Cole Six Days on the Hurricane Deck of a Mule

As I lay in a hammock which had been put up for me in front of the house, and [Pg 37] watched the moon rise from behind a mountain just across the road, it seemed to me that life was very beautiful and well worth living, in spite of all its hardships. The higher the moon rose, the more fully her glorious rays streamed over all the surrounding objects and bathed them in a more charitable light than anything feminine is supposed to do, the more nearly romantic I grew and felt almost like finding a certain charm even in San Juan.
Source: Gutenberg

Almira Stillwell Cole Six Days on the Hurricane Deck of a Mule

A hammock was slung up in the room, and I found I had never before cherished a proper appreciation of one. Even a summer girl, with all the romantic accessories of "shady nook, babbling brook," and so on, can form no conception of the soul-satisfying comfort derived from abandoning oneself to the luxurious embrace of a hammock, after a few hours' ride on a mule.
Source: Gutenberg

Almira Stillwell Cole Six Days on the Hurricane Deck of a Mule

I have found no snake coiled within my shoe of a morning, nor have I discovered one as an unwelcome bedfellow at night. Truth to tell, you are all wrong, but one, and now hear me.
Until railroads, flying machines, balloons, seven-league boots, magic wishing-rings, or some such means of transit are adopted in Honduras, I choose to stay here and grow up with the country, for never, while I have breath to object or heart to consider self, will I spend another six days "on the hurricane deck of a mule."
Source: Gutenberg

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