left nostril, closing it. The flute is held like a clarinet, and the fingers are used to operate it. Keanonako played the different notes of the birds of the forest, and really gave us a lovely imitation. The musical instruments in use to-day are the guitar, the mandolin, and the ukulele. The native Hawaiians are very musical and sing and play well, but the music is now greatly mixed with American and European airs.

It was always entertaining to drive in the park, where we listened to the band and watched the women on horseback. In those days the native women rode astride wonderfully well and looked very dignified and stately, but one does not see this superb horsemanship and the old costumes any more. They did indeed make a fine appearance, with the paus, long flowing scarfs of gay colours, which some of them wore floating over their knees and almost reaching the ground, while their horses curvetted and pranced.

One of the amusements was to go down to the dock to see a steamer off and watch the pretty custom of decorating those who went away with leis—wreaths of flowers—which were placed around the neck till the travelers looked like moving bouquets and the whole ship at last became a garden. When large steamers sailed the whole town went to the wharf, and the famous Royal Hawaiian Band—which Captain Berger, a German, led for forty years—played native airs for an hour before the time of sailing. It was an animated and pretty sight at the dock, for the natives are so fond of flowers that they, too, wear leis continually as bands around their hats, and they bring and send them as presents and in compliment. Steamers arriving at the port were welcomed in the same charming fashion.

Judge Widemann kindly asked us to dine and view his wonderful hedge of night-blooming cereus. The good old Judge who had married the Princess had three daughters; two of the girls were married to two brothers, who were Americans. All the daughters were attractive, and the youngest, who was the wife of a German, was remarkably pretty. It was strange at first to see brown-skinned people in low-necked white satin dinner gowns, and to find them so cultured and charming.

We dined with Mr. and Mrs. Castle, also with old Mrs. Macfarlane at Waikiki. We enjoyed our evening there immensely. Sam Parker, "the prince of the natives," and Paul Neumann, and Mrs. Wilder, too, all great characters in those days, were very kind to us. Many of them have passed away, but I shall always remember them as we knew them in those happy honeymoon months.

All the mystic spell of those tropical evenings at Waikiki lives in these lines by Rupert Brooke:

"Warm perfumes like a breath from vine and tree
Drift down the darkness. Plangent, hidden from eyes,
Somewhere an eukaleli thrills and cries
And stabs with pain the night's brown savagery.
And dark scents whisper; and dim waves creep to me,
Gleam like a woman's hair, stretch out, and rise;
And new stars burn into the ancient skies,
Over the murmurous soft Hawaiian sea."

I took great pleasure in going to Governor Cleghorn's place. He is a Scotchman who married a sister of the last king, and was at one time governor of this island. Many years ago, my father brought home a photograph of their beautiful daughter, then a girl of fourteen, who died not long after. Mr. Cleghorn's grounds were superb—old avenues of palms and flowering shrubs, and shady walks with Japanese bridges, and pools of water filled with lilies. A fine view of the valley opened out near the house. There were really two connected houses, which were large and built of wood, with verandas. One huge room was filled with portraits of the Hawaiian royal family and some prints of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. There were knickknacks everywhere, and teak-wood tables and chairs, poi bowls made by hand, and primitive stone tools. We were served with lemonade by two Japanese servants in the pretty costume of their land, while tea was served by a picturesque Chinese woman at a table on the veranda.

Besides these informal entertainments, there were various official functions. One was a delightful musicale at President Dole's house, in the midst of his lovely tropical garden; also a dinner at the Consul General's, besides several parties on the naval vessels at the station. Captain Book gave us a dinner and dance on his ship, the Marian. We had breakfast one day on the flagship Philadelphia with Admiral and Mrs. Beardsley—the Admiral was in command of the station. Captain Cotton of the Philadelphia also gave us a boating party by moonlight, followed by a little dance aboard ship.

After lunching with the American Minister, Mr. Sewall, one day, we sat on his lanai at Waikiki and watched the surf-boating, which was most exciting, even from a distance, as the canoes came in at racehorse speed on the crest of the breakers. That day L. and I put our bathing suits on, as we did indeed several times, got into an outrigger canoe with two native boys to handle it, and started for the reef. They skilfully paddled the boat out between the broken waves, waiting for the chance to move on without meeting a foaming crester, and then hurrying to catch a smooth place. At last we got out far enough and turned, watching over our shoulders for a big fellow to come rolling in. Then the boys paddled wildly and allowed the crest, as it broke, to catch and lift the boat and rush it along on top of the roaring foam, right up to the beach. On one of our trips our oarsmen were a little careless and we were upset. But instead of swimming in shore we swam out to sea and pushed the boat until we were well beyond the breakers, where we could right it again and get in—which, for those not used to it, is not a particularly easy thing to accomplish. The people on the shore became frightened about us and sent out another boat to pick us up, for we were quite far out and there were many sharks around.