all carefully protected by British, and American menof-war.

Ten minutes' walk, at an easy gait, will see you over and through the business part of the town; including the banker, the butcher, the baker, the poimakers' places—and a peep at the postoffice, and custom house as well! Ten minutes again, from the steamer-wharf, will bring you inside the Palace-gate, for the latch-string, now, is always outside; in other words the grounds are open to the public. An audience, with Royalty, however, sometimes requires a little more ceremony!

The Palace is good enough, for all intents and purposes-and far too fine for such visitors as too often go there; but, in its appointments-and from a refined, and artistic point of view, it will not compare favorably with thousands, I may say, of homes in Americaeven with many not one-half so large!

The Hawaiians, where well-to-do and able to gratify their taste, are more or less barbaric in the use of colors and adornments.

While young, their eyes are clear and expressive. Their teeth are firm and white, as a rule. When older, they are often too heavy and coarse, the eyes dull, from the use of native liquor, “ava,”—and the mouth disfigured, from the frequent use of tobacco and the clay pipe. In a group of women, the pipe is often passed from mouth to mouth.

Whatever a native agrees' or undertakes to do, he will do faithfully and well, to the letter. But it is not

in the nature of things-"the eternal fitness of things," that, with a country and climate like Hawaii, he should like to do everything, even to accommodate the "foreigner" in his piling up of wealth! There is always a plenty of fruit, in the valley and on the hillside, fish in the sea, taro in the patch at hand, flowers on the roadside, music in his brain, friends never cold! Why should he do hard or menial work? They are nature's kings and queens, in their own right; and Hawaii is their own.

ALOHA, HAWAII! ALOHA NUI!

KAUAI.

You

OU wish I would not make use of the exclamation point so often-you are tired of seeing it? So am I, milady. But, "my gracious!" "I wish to goodness," then, that you, or somebody else, had invented a new set of punctuation marks before it became my "bounden duty" to write what I saw in this wonderful wonder of a country, with its magnificently magnificent waterfalls, not to speak of its million and one exquisitely exquisite smaller ones, and all the way down to the tiniest tiny-its very loveliest loves of rainbows--and its most superbly superb coloring, over and around and under them all-in earth, and sky, and sea! A single exclamation point, forsooth! Why do I not live-and die there? "Don't be sassy!" You are not my father confessor, nor even my confidential friend and adviser!

When I speak of a native hut, or grass-house, you may, naturally enough, fancy it means a very despicable sort of a domicile or residence! Not at all. It is often a very picturesque and comfortable abode; airy, light, cool and clean. There are natives and natives! And now and then one will be seen-like to poor Lelea's "Brown "-as lazy and shiftless as the most

shiftless white man. Certainly, this will manifest itself with no uncertain signs and sounds about his dwelling; for one is sure to see, in an unkempt, untidy, native home a lot of miserable, gaunt, ragged-coated dogs.

In early times, and even later on, the natives were often induced (I am sorry to write,) to part with large tracts of land, their rightful inheritance, for a good deal less than the value of a good song! But they are wiser to-day (if not happier,) the gentle, laughterloving, honest-hearted race! Nearly all of them own at least enough land for their taro. A few of them are even well-to-do; some of them (as well as the foreigner) owning quite large plantation shares.

The natives if cut off from their taro (poi), grow listless and unhappy-actually pine away in no time. The taro can be boiled, and then an inch of the rough outside cut off, when it is as large as a large rutabaga turnip; in color, a delicate violet or lavender, mottled a little, with white, fine grain, firm, light and delicious. It can then be toasted, and tastes precisely like roasted chestnuts. It can be boiled or baked.

But the natives care nothing at all for it, in any of these ways. It is made, by them, into a porridge, thick or thin; one-finger, two-finger, three-finger, poi. It is prepared with great care, and put into calabashes, large bowls made of wood. Some of these are very handsome, as highly polished as rosewood, and often a thing of beauty." I saw one, belonging to his late Majesty, Kalakaua, of silver, in shape of a lotus

flower. But, in the native woods, koa, or kou, they are much more beautiful. There are exquisite tables of these woods, inlaid, to be seen in the Museum at the Government Buildings, opposite the Palace, in Honolulu. Poi, I say, is set away, covered, and as it grows more and more acid and keeps rising, like a thin batter, the bowl will likely be full until it is "pau"-gone! Some of these bowls will hold a large quantity, but they are of different sizes. Poi is an acquired taste entirely; but if one can learn to eat it, it is almost life-giving in that climate.

Doctors often order it to be taken in milk, or water even, in fever and other ailments where nothing else. can be retained. It is very nutritious and restorative. Taro is never cheap.

When you come to a comfortable native hut on Kauai, you will see the taro patch, the running water, the cocoanuts, flowering shrubs and climbers, you may be sure, and hills not far off; for the natives have an eye to beauty and comfort. You will see, also, a plenty of light, clean cool mats of their own making, and if the native has "not a shoe to his foot," you can be sure he will have hats enough to his head.

It may be one can be bought of his wife, which has taken all her leisure time for a month to plait, as light and fine as if from a fairy's loom! A dainty thing, enough, when trimmed with lace, for a queen's outing. It can be bought for the small sum of eight dollars. Some of the matting is fine enough to go down, as an heirloom, in a family. The natives make