you last week,--the ones with the long brownish leaves,
like swords. There's no mistake about it. I took those two Australian
sailors over to look at 'em a day or two ago and they swear it's the
same plant, growing wild. Same little capsule shaped fruit, with the
little black seeds, and everything. I've been reading up on it in the
encyclopedia. You cut those leaves off when they get to be full size,
macerate 'em in water for a few days, sun dry 'em, and then weave 'em
some way or another. We'll have to work that out. Strongest sort of
fibre in the leaves. Makes a very stout cloth, rope, twine,--all
that sort of thing. Opens up a new and important industry,
boys,--particularly obnoxious to married men. We'll be having
dress-making establishments in full blast before you know it, and model
gowns till you can't rest. I almost hate to spread the news among the
women. We won't have a cook, or a laundress, or a school-teacher on the
Island if this dressmaking craze gets started. Every hut along this row
will have a sign beside the door: 'Dressmaking Done Here.' On the other
hand, I doubt very much if we'll be able to get a single tailor-shop
going,--and God knows I'll soon need a new pair of pants, especially if
we're going to have regular church services every Sunday, as Percival
says."

"Father Francisco and Parson Mackenzie have finally got together on it,"
said Malone gloomily. "For the first time in the history of civilization
we're going to have a combination Catholic and Protestant Church. It's
all arranged. Father Francisco is going to conduct mass in the morning
and Parson Mackenzie is going to talk about hell-fire in the evening.
I was wondering what the Jews are going to do for a synagogue and a
rabbi."

"I can't answer that question," said Peter Snipe; "but Morris Shine
tackled me the other day to write a play for him, something with music
and dancing in it. He's got a great idea, he says. A stock company to
use the church building once a month. Expects to submit his scheme to
Fitts as soon as he gets it worked out, with the idea of having our
prize little architect provide for a stage with ecclesiastical props in
the shape of pulpits and chancels and so forth, which can be removed on
short notice. Suggests, as a matter of thrift, that footlights be put in
instead of altar candles. Free show, free acting, no advertising bills,
no royalties to authors, free programs,--everything free, including
supper."

"Gran