NOTEBOOK 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.