literature, the heavenly manna-the finest English.-The Bible. The next best English classic is the Prayer Book. When students have mastered these two, the Bible and the Prayer Book, they will be masters of good English in the highest sense of the word (and ergo, masters of themselves!) and never, till then, will they be, can they be, anything but mediocrity-often not that; illiterate and misinformed to a degree that astonishes the looker-on. "Is that so!" Allow me to ask you who translated the Bible, who put it into English? Who compiled the Prayer Book? "All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness. That the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works." Give the children bread. The Bread of Life. No screening, "screenings," or scraps. 1896. MAKAPALA-BY-THE-SEA. Earth's crammed with heaven, But only he who sees, takes off his shoes. -E. B. Browning. We have always, until quite recently, been in one way a Hindu, disliking to put our foot on anything of God's creation wherein was the breath of life; we simply would not do it. It was with us a superstition. We recall an argument had with a friend in the west in which we declared we would not kill a flea unless they could make clear to our reason, and they could not, an advantage to be gained either for the flea or for ourselves. We had always dropped the flea, when we could catch him, out of the window; and it was a matter of stolid indifference to us from that moment whether he dove into the sand, his dearly-beloved element, or hopped up the lamp post. We said we would not hesitate at all, we were brave enough to start out on that small warpath when we were rightly convinced of any terrestrial or celestial gain that would accrue by taking that little life it seemed always to us so all alive to keep. The wit of a flea is super excellent. On coming to Kohala the same aversion implanted within us when a child, to pulling off a fly's wings or head or smashing it outright, came with us. But very soon into the midst of our housekeeping arrangements came the sensible and pertinent query: Should the insects live in our castle or should we? Should we know peace and keep a piece of our possessions or not? And it did not take us many minutes to decide after witnessing a few barbecues, holocausts for them and Barmecide feasts for us, within our small walls, what course to pursue, as we have been called upon before in our one life-that self-preservation is the first law of nature as of nations. We had always argued that we did not consider it as our mission to be chasing gnats, and the rest of the insignificant insect tribe annoying as they may be for a few minutes; and we had been able, by fairly strong will and no nerves, to get on, and keep on the even tenor of our way. But now here was an actual necessity presented for our regard, and we arose to the occasion. We determined at once to be the sole occupant of the shanty. While we spend not too much time in seeking we kill quickly everything that creeps or crawls or climbs; that runs or flies; that spins or weaves or lays or hatches or eats; everything dies that peeps into our wardrobe, or sleeps in our pantry, or hides in our cupboard. No half-measures, no shilly-shallying-"no donkeys Peggoty!" Thou must end thine unprofitable work, my little friends, here and now. Chateaubriand, in "Les Natchez," makes Outougamiz say:-“tout est si agite a la surface de la terre! . . Tout est si calme une longueur de fleche au-dessous!" Pazienza, Signora: "Thou shalt know peace and calm on the surface, and not go into the grave for it!" It has been blowing a gale here now for many days more or less-more than less. Everything that was loose has been blown down and over into the next lot; everything that is fastened at one end is slapping and switching and snapping, cracking and creaking; the wind is groaning and sighing and whistling and howling; the clouds are flying, the smoke can't tell which way is north or south, east or west, and talks in the earth's face; an ugly sea and spiteful, vicious dashes and swirls of rain make up all the day. Nature is in a much beruffled, laced and fringed mood. We watched the Kinau at our sea-window (no glass) from Niulii and she was enveloped in angry foam-ugh! How thankful we were to be on land, if the school-house did not blow over in our direction and our roof held on! Be jabers! this is a fine country about here. We are willing to live and work a good bit on to enjoy it. It's a fine cool spot-illegant. It is good to be alive and to look about here in the morning; to look far out at sea, and over to the hills; to look about at night and in the "small hours" of the morning-then is the time to see the glory of God, for the stars are so thick in some places they look as if they were sitting in one another's lap-"a glorious show." Sir John Lubbock, M. P., F. R. S., etc., one of the very finest scholars of the age, and who among his other wonderful researches has spent years and a fortune in his entomological pursuit alone, tells us that he has discovered a perfect type of the "good Samaritan" among the ants. We have not met with him in our kitchen, but it may be that our eyes lack the cultivation needed and that our mental glasses are not sufficiently strong. But we do not believe he is a member of the family we find in these Islands. We wish Sir John would tell us, and he could in a minute, which are the parents and which the children of those we see, for it puzzles our brain they look so much of an age. We see here and there a big raw-boned-looking fellow amongst them, but, ah, he's an ant of another color. We have been trying of late pretty hard to catch a rat or a family by the name of-Rats. And this is how we have not succeeded. Two traps were loaded with good ox, cooked fairly well, and highly seasoned withal; on the whole, an inviting meal, and so the rats declared and thought we had managed a good luau for once, for before they had to skirmish about for their midnight repast and they did and grew to be very diligent o' nights to our dismay of a morning. They came, as usual, and went away in glee, after eating all the beef on one trap and taking the other beef and trap home with them; but not before going over to the table for a loaf of home-made bread. "Goodness gracious!" but that was the unkindest cut of all, for good bread is our sweetheart forever, and to have a rat— It was better than a play to see the expression on the face of the friend who set those traps (?) and fed those self-invited guests, when he gazed on that neat (meat) work. We forgot all about our bread and laughed tears. "Never mind! Kohala rats are clever, but we'll trap them yet." Ah ca, que faites-vous? "Nothing but scraps and scribbling Ranged without order or care." |