er for a moulding board, and, placing
it on a chair on the back veranda, I knelt on the floor with a shawl
over my head to keep the rain off and made up the loaves. In making
the dough I was successful, but the attempt to bake it almost sent me
into hysterics. With an umbrella over my head I ran to the kitchen,
but found, to my dismay, that all the wood was soaked, and the wind
drove the smoke back into the stove, which thereupon belched forth
acrid clouds from every opening. Paul ran down to where the carpenter
had been working, and returned with a boxful of chips which we dried
on top of the stove, swallowing volumes of smoke as we did so. Then I
called Ben and showed him how to nail up the half of a tin kerosene
can over the opening of the pipe to screen it from the wind. That
helped a little, but the rain beat in on the stove, and, though we
consumed immense quantities of chips, it still remained cold. Finally
I made a barrier of boxes around the stove, and that brought a measure
of success, so that in about a couple of hours I was able to half
bake, half dry a fowl for luncheon. By that time the bread was done
for, and I very nearly so. Paul and I held a council of war, and
decided to send the boys down to the pavilion to live, while we took
their room for a kitchen and dining-room, one end serving for the one
and the other end for the other, somewhat after the fashion of Mr. and
Mrs. Boffin's room in _Our Mutual Friend_.

"There were two mango trees among the plants sent up by Mr. Caruthers,
and I was surprised to see among them also a shrub that is the pest of
Tahiti and will become so here if it is planted. In the afternoon, the
rain being then only a high mist, Simile and I began to set out the
things. While busy at this I saw three or four beautiful young men,
followed by a troop of dogs, pass along our road towards the bush. I
have seldom seen more graceful, elegant creatures than these fellows.
They carried large knives and axes, wore hats of fresh green banana
leaves, and also carried large banana leaves as umbrellas to keep off
the rain. With a friendly _tofa_ [farewell] on either side, they went
their way. After we had planted all the roots and taken a little rest,
Simile and I took a hoe and pickaxe and finished the afternoon sowing
Indian corn. I asked Simile while we were planting which was the best
season for such work, meaning the wet, dry, or intermediate time. 'We
Samoans,' he answered, 'always go