bench was
turned facing to the strangers, a piece of well-considered civility; and
when it was the turn of Butaritari to sing, the pair must twist round on
the bench, lean their elbows on the rail, and turn to us the spectacle
of their broad backs. The royal couple occasionally solaced themselves
with a clay pipe; and the pomp of state was further heightened by the
rifles of a picket of the guard.

With this kingly countenance, and ourselves squatted on the ground, we
heard several songs from one side or the other. Then royalty and its
guards withdrew, and Queen Victoria's son and daughter-in-law were
summoned by acclamation to the vacant throne. Our pride was perhaps a
little modified when we were joined on our high places by a certain
thriftless loafer of a white; and yet I was glad too, for the man had a
smattering of native, and could give me some idea of the subject of the
songs. One was patriotic, and dared Tembinok' of Apemama, the terror of
the group, to an invasion. One mixed the planting of taro and the
harvest-home. Some were historical, and commemorated kings and the
illustrious chances of their time, such as a bout of drinking or a war.
One, at least, was a drama of domestic interest, excellently played by
the troop from Makin. It told the story of a man who has lost his wife,
at first bewails her loss, then seeks another: the earlier strains (or
acts) are played exclusively by men; but towards the end a woman
appears, who has just lost her husband; and I suppose the pair console
each other, for the finale seemed of happy omen. Of some of the songs my
informant told me briefly they were "like about the _weemen_"; this I
could have guessed myself. Each side (I should have said) was
strengthened by one or two women. They were all soloists, did not very
often join in the performance, but stood disengaged at the back part of
the stage, and looked (in _ridi_, necklace, and dressed hair) for all
the world like European ballet-dancers. When the song was anyway broad
these ladies came particularly to the front; and it was singular to see
that, after each entry, the _premiere danseuse_ pretended to be overcome
by shame, as though led on beyond what she had meant, and her male
assistants made a feint of driving her away like one who had disgraced
herself. Similar affectations accompany certain truly obscene dances of
Samoa, where they are very well in place. Here it was different. The
words, perhaps, in this free-spo