omehow as if I had a right to his surplus manhood,
being next-of-kin, and therefore I venture to address you as a sort of
man." (Hear, hear!) "I merely wish to ask a question. May I ask to be
the bearer of the news of this assembly's determination to--the--the
_Queen_?"

"Yes--yes--of course--av course," were the immediate replies.

Otto waited not for more, but sped to their new hut, in which the Queen
was busy preparing dinner at the time.

"Pina," exclaimed the boy, bursting in, "will you consent to be the
Queen of Big Island?"

"Come, Otto; don't talk nonsense. I hope Dom is with you. Dinner is
much overdone already."

"No, but I'm not talking nonsense," cried Otto. "I say, will you
consent to be a queen--a _real_ queen--Pina the First, eh?"

Hereupon he gave his wondering sister a graphic account of the recent
meeting, and fight, and final decision.

"But they don't really mean it, you know," said Pauline, laughing.

"But they do really mean it," returned Otto; "and, by the way, if _you_
become a queen won't that necessarily make me and Dom princes?"

As Dominick entered the hut at that moment he joined in the laugh which
this question created, and corroborated his brother's statement.

In this cheerful frame of mind the new Royal Family sat down to dinner.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

THE CORONATION--CROWN-MAKING DELIBERATIONS, CEREMONIALS, AND
CATASTROPHES.

There came a day, not many weeks later in the history of our emigrants,
when great preparations were made for an important and unusual event.

This was neither more nor less than the coronation of Queen Pauline the
First.

The great event had been delayed by the unfortunate illness of the elect
queen herself--an illness brought on by reckless exposure in the pursuit
of the picturesque and beautiful among the islets of the lagoon. In
other words, Otto and she, when off on a fishing and sketching excursion
in the dinghy of the wreck, had been caught in a storm and drenched to
the skin. The result to Otto was an increase of appetite; to Pauline, a
sharp attack of fever, which confined her for some time to the palace,
as their little hut was now styled. Here the widow Lynch--acting the
united parts of nurse, lady of the bedchamber, mistress of the robes,
maid of honour, _chef de cuisine_, and any other office that the reader
may recollect as belonging to royalty--did so conduct herself as to gain
not only the approval but the affection and grati