We were never wearied of the 'humours' of native Axim. The people are not Fantis, but Apollonians, somewhat differing in speech with the Oji; both languages, however, are mutually intelligible. [Footnote: Oji is also written Otschi, Tschi, Chwee, Twi, Tswi, Otyi, Tyi, or whatever German ingenuity can suggest. I can hardly explain why the late Keith Johnston (Africa) calls the linguistic family 'Ewe' (Ewhe, or properly Whegbe), after a small section of the country, Dahome, Whydah, &c. He was probably led to it by the publications of the Bâle and other German missions.] The men are the usual curious compound of credulity and distrust, hope and fatalism, energy and inaction, which make the negro so like the Irish character. But we must not expect too much from the denizens of African seaports, mostly fishermen who will act hammock-bearers, a race especially fond of Bacchus and worshippers of the 'devil Venus.' Perhaps a little too much license is allowed to them in the matter of noisy and drunken 'native customs,' palavers, and pow-wows. They rarely go about armed; if you see a gun you know that the bearer is a huntsman. They are easily commanded, and, despite their sympathies with Ashanti-land, they are not likely to play tricks since their town was bombarded. In the villages they are civil enough, baring the shoulders, like taking off the hat, when they meet their rulers. Theirs, also, is the great virtue of cleanliness; even when the mornings are coldest you see them bathing on the beach. They are never pinched for food, and they have high ideas of diet. 'He lib all same Prince; he chop cow and sheep ebery day, and fowl and duck he be all same vegeta'l.' They have poultry in quantities, especially capons, sheep with negro faces like the Persian, dwarf milch-goats of sturdy build, dark and dingy pigs, and cattle whose peculiarity it is to be either black or piebald. The latter are neat animals like the smallest Alderneys, with short horns, and backs flat as tables. There are almost as many bulls as there are cows, and they herd together without fighting. Being looked upon as capital, and an honour to the owner, they are never killed; and, although the udders of cows and goats are bursting with milk, they are never milked.