They possess everything that a civilized and progressive nation can desire. Institutions, churches, schools, roads, railways . . . . On paper their system is flawless. . . . If one puts one's trust in the mirage of hearsay, the Haitians can boast of possessing all desirable things, but on nearer approach these pleasant prospects are apt to take on another complexion. For instance, you are standing in what was once a building, but is now a spindle-shanked ghost of its former self.
Some filthy sheets lie wound into a sticky ball on two beds, one of which is overturned.
A large, iron washing tub stands in the open doorway. It would be impossible to guess. As a matter of fact, you are in the Military Hospital of the second most important town of Hayti, a state-supported concern in which the soldiers of the Republic are supposed to be cured of all the ills of the flesh. . . . It was the same with the electric light. There are cannon, but they won't go off.