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dollar for it, and tomorrow we sail for America in good
ship Smyrniote; we love it, Master,—and I have got a
devilish saddle boil to sit on for the first 2 weeks at sea."
The Smyrniote was a sailing-vessel altogether
at the mercy of the winds. M. T. had been in
the Islands exactly four months, an experience
that all his life he loved to remember and
hoped to repeat.
All small villages are gossipy, but Honolulu heads them
a little. They let me off comparatively easy, though I
don't thank them for it because it argues that I wasn't
worth the trouble of blackguarding. They only accused
me of murder, arson, highway robbery and some other
little eccentricities, but I knew nothing of it till the day
I started. The missionary (I should say preacher) feature
of insincerity and hypocrisy makes the atmosphere of the
place.
A woman who keeps a dog won't do, as a general
thing.