Ah! my bonnie blue eyes is gone (sad to say, for what will become of the "boiling"?) to "Dorimo Hill." Hush! he is sound asleep! sound asleep, this Christmas eve, in the old mill, and sugar is forgotten by him!

But, listen to the Heavenly music! An angel is entering the dusty mill to-night, to do his weary work! Softly she wafts about, a being of light and beauty. White as the snow on his own hills at home are her garments, a rainbow-glory about her head-her hands upon the harp! Gently she draws the old curtain, to shut the moonlight from his brow and head, fanning him slowly with her wings the while when he grows restless, yet playing on and on that he may dream to-night to God's own music!

"Are they not all ministering angels sent to minister to those who shall be heirs of salvation?"

And thick and fast the visions from the skies are forming one after another in his over-taxed and weary brain. For the yield of sugar on this place, this season, is enormous, and boiling must not cease for him to rest! Ah, no!

"For men must work, and women must weep,

And the harbor-bar be moaning."

He dreams of talking with his father again, a boy on the ship; of their suppers in the little cabin; of the rainy nights on deck, when they watch together for the "Light" near home.

And then he dreams of his Alice, as a little girl, pelting him with snowballs on the way home from

school; and her merry laughter, when she sent his little cap a-flying; of the big snow man they built up together, a wonder to themselves!

And his dream rambles on, until he is back again to the sugar-cane, and looking off to the hills which skirt Kauai, he sees that they have changed to look like immense pyramids of whitest crystal sugar; that the houses, going up here and there, are being cut from it-that, as far as his eyes can reach or discern, there is chimney after chimney, tall as a church spire, and mills where sugar is boiling!-that all Nature seems turning to sugar, and that mankind, at least on Hawaii, is fast going sugar-mad!

And when he questions the quiet and thoughtful manager, who has always been his kind and helpful friend and adviser, he tells him it is quite true that the process has been going on, surely but noiselessly for many months, but that he, being wrapped up in his engrossing mill work and his dreams of home, had failed to detect the change! Dreams are made of such strange, unreasonable stuff, that it did not seem to him at all unnatural that the whole universe should turn to sugar! But the angel was still there, playing her sweetest, lulling strains, " for they know no rest." And now he sees in the sky, baby, cherub faces, with black eyes, and blue and brown; with sweet, smiling mouths and softest curly hair; they are advancing in troops, and in twos and threes and singly, with bright stars in their foreheads, with tiny trumpets and harps, and pipes and viols in their hands, all

playing, boys and girls, their eyes dancing to the music!

Now and again he can catch the sound of childish voices. They are coming closer, head after head, peering into the mill from every window, and crowding the doorways.

He now sees larger forms and older faces; into the mill they come, close up to the "boiling." All at once there is no longer a roof; it is lifted, and the whole sky is full of these angelic beings, host upon host! The sides are gone! and he is far out on an open plain, where there are flocks of sheep with their shepherds, all looking up into the sky, listening to the angel song "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.' He awoke-the

angel was gone-the music had ceased-the sugar was done! It was to be his last Christmas on Hawaii!

III.

The Holidays are past, the rainy season at the Islands is well over, indeed midsummer is almost upon them.

The work at the mill, the heat of the climate to one not yet well used to it, has drawn largely upon the strength and courage of the sugar-boiler. The color gone from his cheeks, his face is pallid, and the old energy of manner, the merry whistle and cheery laugh are not now intimate companions. Time, dis

is

appointment, toil, lack of sleep, home-sickness—these, one and all together, are accomplishing a sad result!

As it draws near to the time when in New England all nature puts on her richest tapestry dyes of golden browns, and hundred tints and shades of red and yellow in maple and in sumach, he begins to hear rumors of "Kapioanelani," that the season promises great things for the new plantation-an unheard-of yield. It is now confirmed and settled that it will, doubtless, pay large dividends in the future! The irrigation is complete and perfect, the shares have risen to such a height he can hardly ask too much and not find a purchaser!

The captain's money, his shares bought from the sale of his ship at Honolulu, have increased in value a hundred fold! He is rich enough now, surely. He will retain one-third only of his interest for his dear mother during her life-time, he tells himself; the rest shall be sold at once to the highest bidder. He will make a rapid tour of the four more important islands; go around Kauai his present home; see Oahu again, and from there to Maui and to Hawaii, the largest of the group-giving its name to the kingdom-"The Kingdom of Hawaii.” He will see the different plantations, the wonderful volcanoes, the magnificent valleys of Iao and Hanalei. He will gather native curios, and rare presents of Chinese, Japanese, Portuguese and English make; native handwork in curiously woven mat, fan, hat, etc.; necklaces of tiny shells and beads, of carved kukui nuts; walking sticks

of rare woods, calabashes, with covers and withoutone carved with the view of a grass hut on the shore, cocoanut trees, and a ship in the distance; cups, lava, 'Pele's hair," leis of feathers, and the rest.

By the latter part of the harvest month his plans are all perfected, his interest is sold in Kapioanełani, he has bid good-bye to friends, for he is one to make many, shaken hands for the last time with the dear manager, his best, true friend, and made him promise to be with him in his new home on the very next Fourth of July.

He counts the hours, so earnest and eager is he to be free and off to sea once again; so sudden the change from weariness and toil and heat to thoughts of rest and home, that all is joy and music in his heart! The blood is once more working rapidly in his veins, and signs of returning color are in his countenance. There is now a great work before him in his old New England home, and with strength, and means and unselfish purpose my sailor-hero shall live to do it all!

"For men must work and women must weep,
And the harbor-bar be moaning."

He goes to look at "Kilauea" on the Mauna Loa Mountain, that pot of seething, boiling, crimson, liquid lava, of fire and flame, and he forgets to sleep until he has quit that region of Hawaii! He visits Kohola plantation, and stays over Sunday at the quite prosperous Mission with its very pretty church.