nd, they themselves
did as much as, if not more than, their Samoan assistants to eradicate
the noxious growths and make the precious blades of grass spring up in
their place. Yet glad as they were to welcome the grass, Mr Stevenson,
as he pulled the weeds up, hated to cause their death, and felt that
they were victims in the great war of life against life of which the
world is full.

Existence at Vailima was simple and patriarchal in the extreme. The
Samoans, who found in its owner so kind and so staunch a friend, had the
warm hearts, the natural good qualities of children, but they had some
of the vices of untrained children also, and petty thefts and tiresome
acts of disobedience, gave their master and mistress abundant trouble,
and often necessitated a species of impromptu court of justice, in which
Mr Stevenson distributed reproofs and meted out punishments to the
offenders in the midst of a full gathering of the domestic staff, both
indoor and out, who all looked up to him much as one fancies the desert
herdsmen did to Abraham, or as in later days the Highland clansmen
feared and yet worshipped their chief, whose word was law.

His wife's ready wit on at least one occasion showed itself by utilising
the native superstition to bring home the enormity of the offence to the
possible stealer of a young pig. The fear of an 'Aitu,' or wicked
woman-spirit of the woods, and the general dread of devils, has far more
effect on the Samoan conscience than more civilised methods of warning
and reproof. So when Mrs Stevenson, by a clever imitation of native
conjuring, made Lafaele believe that 'her devil,' or divining spirit,
would tell her where the missing pig was, it is probable that Lafaele,
even if innocent himself, shared the feast with his friends with
trembling.

The master and mistress had the kindest interest in all their native
servants, and it is a quaint thing to read of the great writer, for
whose books publishers and public impatiently waited, not only giving Mr
Strong's little boy, Austin, history lessons, but spending hours over
teaching Henry, the Samoan chief, who was his native overseer. Very
strange, too, it is to realise that he carried his interest in missions
and missionaries to so practical a point as for a time at least to teach
Sunday school himself. His stepson, Mr Lloyd Osbourne, shared to the
full his interest in these things, and both of them must have been very
comforting to the missionaries in