at their joy in life was
gone. But the new and jolly governor, craving amusement, sought to
revive it for his pleasure. So the drums were beating on the palace
lawn, and afternoon found the trails gay with _pareus_ and brilliant
shawls as the natives came down from their _paepaes_ to the seat of
government.

Chief Kekela Avaua, adopted son of the old Kekela, and head man of
the Paamau district, called for me. He was a dignified and important
man of forty-five years, with handsome patterns in tattooing on his
legs, and Dundreary whiskers. He was quite modishly dressed in brown
linen, beneath which showed his bare, prehensile-toed feet.

Kirio Patuhamane, a marvelous specimen of scrolled ink-marks from
head to foot, who sported Burnside whiskers, an English cricket cap,
and a scarlet loin-cloth, accompanied us down the road.

A hundred natives were squatting in the garden of the palace, and
rum and wine were being handed out when we arrived. Haabunai and
Song of the Nightingale, the man under sentence for making palm
brandy, were once more the distributors, and took a glass often. The
people had thawed since the dance at the governor's inauguration. As
Kirio Patuhamane explained, they had waited to observe the
disposition of their new ruler, the last having been severe,
dispensing no rum save for his own selfish gain, and having a wife
who despised them.

My tawny feminine friends resented keenly white women's airs of
superiority, and many were the cold glances cast by Malicious Gossip,
Apporo, and Flower at the stiffly gowned Madame Bapp, who sat on the
veranda drinking absinthe. They scorned her, because she beat her
husband if he but looked at one of them, though he owned a store and
desired their custom. Poor Madame Bapp! She thought her little man
very attractive, and she lived in misery because of the
openly-displayed charms of his customers. She loved him, and when
jealous she sought the absinthe bottle and soon was busy with whip
and broom on the miserable Bapp, who sought to flee. It was useless;
she had looked to doors and windows, and he must take a painful
punishment, the while the crockery smashed and all Atuona Valley
listened on its _paepaes_, laughing and well knowing that the little
man had given no cause for jealousy.

She greeted me with cold politeness when I mounted to the veranda,
and the governor dispensed glasses of "Dr. Funk," a drink known to
all the South Seas. Its secret is merely the mi