striped negligee shirt, which he himself offered the old man. The expression on the shining face of the native as he received this fresh gift, was something to remember. It was brother looking into brother's face, with a something too deep for words. It was an expression that one would like to meet again, in the world beyond.

"Let's give him a hat," said George Jr., who had joined the group on the veranda, "there are a lot on the hat-tree to spare." The tattered hat under Kalani's arm had not spoken in vain. As the boy was searching for one, his father cried to him, "Bring the silk hat from the top peg." "No, no," said Mrs. Hamilton, "don't let us spoil a good thing by allowing the old man to think we are making fun of him." "Fun of him!" said Mr. Hamilton, "I tell you I know what will please his soul, and it's a silk hat, now see if it's not." George first handed his mother a brown derby, only slightly the worse for wear, and then a silk hat still possessed of a good shine but not the most modern in shape. Having only the first in evidence, Mrs. Hamilton again addressed Kalani. "Do you think you could wear this hat?" "That hat for me? Oh how fine! Yes, yes, I know—" here his words failed, for his eyes had caught sight of the silk hat, which Mr. Hamilton was in a great hurry to prove would be the climax of his life. "Here, try this, I guess you can make it stick on," he said. The brown derby fell among the ferns, and trembling hands seized the shining beaver. "Auwe, auwe! heaha keia! ka nani! ka maikai! Auwe! ka lokomaikai!"^[5] Over the shining bald head it was pressed, coaxed, urged and settled, and it was a tight fit. "There," said Mr. Hamilton, "I told you so, he would wear that hat if it killed him, rather than not take it when he had the chance! Of course he never had a silk hat before in his life."

[5]: "Oh my! oh my! what's this! how splendid, how fine! Ah, what generosity!"

The old man was speechless and voluble by turns. His good fortune choked him, but the joys of possession ran over his eyes and sparkled in every square inch of his honest face. Ruth brought some wrapping paper, and Mrs. Hamilton helped fold the articles for easy carrying. "But my hat, how am I going to carry my hat?" he wailed. "I'll wear this one," putting the derby on his head, "but this papale kilika (silk hat) is to wear to church, and how am I to carry it home?" Another paper was brought, and, with twine, a secure package was made, with a loop to slip over his arm. Then a fresh idea came to the old man. Conscious of the humor of the whole situation, he said, "You have left me only one thing to ask for," and he raised a foot to which was bound a much worn shoe. "Shoes!" cried Ruth, "May I find some, Mamma?" and in less time than it takes to tell it she was back with a pair of half-worn brogans that were more beautiful in Kalani's eyes than the handsomest ten-dollar boots that ever came out of a shoe emporium. Now there really seemed to be nothing left but for the old man to go, but he had something to say.

Lifting his happy face, he said, "You have been very good to me. I have no money to buy such things for myself, and I was going to ask only for a coat. I live in Palolo valley, and have no means of earning anything. I brought a few eggs with me, thinking I could change them for something to take back to my old wife, but now I would like to give them to you." He slipped the cover from his pail and held up to Mrs. Hamilton's view the half dozen small eggs. Tears filled her eyes at his honest, dignified independence. "No, no," said she, slipping a coin in among the eggs, "get something for the wife with the eggs, and give her our aloha."

At last with many an aloha and auwe of benediction, Kalani betook himself and his new wealth down the drive, and the Hamilton family answered the breakfast bell.

Chapter III.

The barking of a small dog awoke Nalima from a nap. Sitting up, she saw at a little distance down the valley, someone coming up the path. At first she thought it was Kalani, then saw that it was a haole hat that appeared and disappeared among the bushes. "Auwe, it's some trespasser that's come up here because Kalani is away, what shall I do?" While she yet feared, the figure stood at the door and Kalani's voice reassured her.

We may not repeat all that Nalima listened to, for in another tongue than the Hawaiian, its flavor would be much impaired. The simple souls accepted the great good fortune of the suit of clothes, the shoes, and the hats, with childlike simplicity. The long and early walk had given Kalani a hearty appetite, which the sour poi, spiced with a bit of salt salmon from the Pake (Chinese) store at Moiliili, soon appeased. Nalima produced a few mountain apples she had gathered during his absence, and they felt they had feasted like chiefs of old.

Nor can we tell of the profound sensation produced in the little district church the following Sabbath, when Kalani entered dressed in his new suit, and crowned with his silk hat. This latter he wore until he took his seat, so that all might see it; then he carefully placed it on the bench beside him. It seemed as if the possession of this silk hat bade fair to restore to him his prestige of the long ago. That he should have been in such high favor with anyone, as to receive such a gift, surely argued greatly for his birthright, and for the heritage of his youth, of which the younger generation had not been aware. Certain it was that soon after this Kalani was made a deacon in the church, and other honors were accorded him in the months that followed. In the little hut in the valley, the driest corner was given to the precious hat, and Nalima gently fondled it as she smoothed it again and again, hoping to preserve its shining gloss indefinitely. It was not pride but satisfaction in this special possession that filled Kalani's soul. He often removed the paper in which it was kept, and, holding it upon his hand, would relate to Nalima the experiences of that momentous morning walk, when he became possessed of this treasure. And Nalima never tired of listening to the tale, though she had long known it by heart. In closing he always said, "The best of it all was, I know they were glad to give it to me, and, Nalima, you know what to do with it if I die first."

Chapter IV.

"Mamma," cried Ruth Hamilton, reining her horse beside her mother's porch one afternoon a year later, "George and I have been for a ride out to Wailupe and back, and as we came near the Palolo Valley road on our way home, we saw a funeral procession coming down. It passed the corner just as we reached it, and, what do you think! On the top of the coffin was a silk hat, and George declares it's the same one Papa gave that old man that came here one morning a good while ago!"

Even so, according to the customs which still obtain in many lands, and which have been handed down through the centuries, of burying one's choicest possessions with the body of the deceased, Kalani and his silk hat were not parted in the grave.