Baton Rouge was clothed in flowers, like a bride -- no, much more so; like a greenhouse. For we were in the absolute South now -- no modifications, no compromises, no half-way measures. The magnolia-trees in the Capitol grounds were lovely and fragrant, with their dense rich foliage and huge snow-ball blossoms. The scent of the flower is very sweet, but you want distance on it, because it is so powerful. They are not good bedroom blossoms -- they might suffocate one in his sleep. We were certainly in the South at last; for here the sugar region begins, and the plantations -- vast green levels, with sugar-mill and negro quarters clustered together in the middle distance -- were in view. And there was a tropical sun overhead and a tropical swelter in the air.

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