rity. I imagine that he failed as an actor because his
effects, carefully studied, were neither bold nor broad enough to get
across the footlights.

I was entertained by the proprietary, yet ironical air with which he
showed me the city. He thought in his heart that there was none in the
United States to equal it, but he saw quite clearly that his attitude
was comic. He drove me round to the various buildings and swelled with
satisfaction when I expressed a proper admiration for their
architecture. He showed me the houses of rich men.

"That's the Stubbs' house," he said. "It cost a hundred thousand dollars
to build. The Stubbs are one of our best families. Old man Stubbs came
here as a missionary more than seventy years ago."

He hesitated a little and looked at me with twinkling eyes through his
big round spectacles.

"All our best families are missionary families," he said. "You're not
very much in Honolulu unless your father or your grandfather converted
the heathen."

"Is that so?"

"Do you know your Bible?"

"Fairly," I answered.

"There is a text which says: The fathers have eaten sour grapes and the
children's teeth are set on edge. I guess it runs differently in
Honolulu. The fathers brought Christianity to the Kanaka and the
children jumped his land."

"Heaven helps those who help themselves," I murmured.

"It surely does. By the time the natives of this island had embraced
Christianity they had nothing else they could afford to embrace. The
kings gave the missionaries land as a mark of esteem, and the
missionaries bought land by way of laying up treasure in heaven. It
surely was a good investment. One missionary left the business--I think
one may call it a business without offence--and became a land agent, but
that is an exception. Mostly it was their sons who looked after the
commercial side of the concern. Oh, it's a fine thing to have a father
who came here fifty years ago to spread the faith."

But he looked at his watch.

"Gee, it's stopped. That means it's time to have a cocktail."

We sped along an excellent road, bordered with red hibiscus, and came
back into the town.

"Have you been to the Union Saloon?"

"Not yet."

"We'll go there."

I knew it was the most famous spot in Honolulu and I entered it with a
lively curiosity. You get to it by a narrow passage from King Street,
and in the passage are offices, so that thirsty souls may be supposed
bound for one of these just as we