Ignorance is bliss, and these people are supremely happy. The center of the universe is at Hatteras Somewhere up the bar, is a meeting house with a little church organization, and a little burial place with wooden head-boards to the graves. There are women here who never wore shoes. They seldom see any money - indeed don t need it, and are happy without it. The women are pale, frail, attenuated creatures, who apparently never grow old.
Tradition has it that they gradually shrink up, and at some remote period are blown away.
The men are ostensively pilots. Every house on the island seems to be built after the same model, by the same builder, and many hundred years ago square in shape, one story high, with a porch sliced into one corner, without cellars there are no foundation walls, because there are no stones to make them. Piles or large props are driven into the sand, and upon these the houses are erected There are no plastered walls, although many houses have a lining of paper. The staple articles of food are fish and sweet potatoes. Corn, pigs and puoltry are raised by some.