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secret, I should wish to decline visiting the ghastly museum; and hope that the key would ever get mislaid while I was an inmate of the dwelling

In every well-ordered large family there should be, I am sure, an attempt made to keep one dark room or store-closet in the middle of the house (on the floor with the library and dining-room if possible); a room where the too-glaring light of day cannot get down into it from above, nor climb up into it from below! A room set apart entirely for family jars, jams, preserves, and pickles of all sorts, of home make and of foreign importation! Nuts hard to crack and otherwise; old cheese well-brandied, crocks of olives, Malaga raisins, Messina oranges, Sicily lemons, Smyrna figs, coffee from Kona and Java and Mocha, choice Young Hyson, Souchong and Imperial, silver boxes of seed-cake, biscuits, etc., cases, baskets, jugs, bottles, demijohns, and what more shall I say? The fragrance of such a store-room is always as delightful as a dairy filled with rich butter, and where the cows have waded in white clover!

There are the peculiar conditions belonging always to an island life, and here, in Hawaii, most intricate and perplexing.

The relation of the Native to the Foreigner and vice versa — the half-caste, the American, English, German, Portuguese, Scandinavian, Japanese, Chinese and the rest, resident in these islands of mid-ocean, with their separate but determined interests; the wonderful climate and productions; the immense sugar

interests; the “great expectations”; the court; the social, and home, and plantation life; the amusements and recreations; the schools; the different religious beliefs; the constant coming and going of war vessels and steamers, merchant ships and whalers, with all the inter-island craft, all together supplying a rich and varied theme for the writer.

In the fiscal year ending June 30, 1892, the United States alone received Hawaiian products, chiefly sugar, to the value of $8,075,881. Total exports over $100 for every man, woman or child in the Hawaiian Islands.




“And God saw everything that He had made, and, behold, it was very good.”Genesis, i, 31.

"And Melchizedek, king of Salem, brought forth bread and wine; and he was the priest of the Most High God.”— Genesis, xiv, 18.

THE brown man--the poor native—was not (like

I to his poor brother, the red man, the much-tobe-pitied-and-to-be-helped Indian) good stuff out of which to make the drunkard. He had lived mostly on poi and fish; he had not followed the chase nor eaten of the spoil. And to-day, even, the Hawaiian cannot be said to covet nor desire the food or drink of the European. But with the white man there came (I regret to say) rum; and with the yellow man there came (worse yet) opium. In this Hawaii—this richest chain of seven gems-in its chief, even in its capital city,—its “pretty little Honolulu”—is to be seen door after door wide open, with tempting array of glass and bottle, and strains of music are to be heard within to lure the native to quick destruction!

Again, all through ard over this country is to be found in choicest and most easily-to-be-got-at spots, the childlike and bland John, with his neat, compact, tidy little shop, where can be found colored neckerchiefs, of brightest, most radiant dye, calico, spurs, saddles, scissors, beads, brass jewelry, sweet cakes, etc. (offered to tempt and gratify the precise wants of the native), together with fire-water and opium (sub rosa). This is the one fiend portrait I dare not cover.

“?Tis true 'tis pity; and pity 'tis 'tis true." All this evil is to the native an acquired taste-not to the manner born! Certainly there is the native liquor; but it is not always made, nor always attainable, nor in common use—it does not flow like water, on every roadside, at a kinne-kinne a glass!

The pure, sweet heart of the wheat—the blood of the grape-types of man's spiritual food, his soul's refreshment in the journey of life. Bread and winesweet bread, pure wine—his material food, his staff and stimulant! When the Blessed Saviour turned sixty gallons of water into wine at the wedding feast he meant there should be no stint. When he fed the multitude there was enough and to spare! God makes no mistakes. There is wheat enough to feed his children, and hillsides enough in Tropics and in Temperates to add the wine. God never meant there should be hunger or thirst—spiritual or physical. He is still multiplying the bread, still willing to feed the multitude-still turning water into wine. “I am the true vine, and My Father is the husbandman.” Many climbers, but one vine! Good bread (as a rule) is an







unknown quantity, so to speak, at the Islands. Fine, rich, home-made bread, with a heart in it, is very rare, exceptional. However, I did see it when living in the purple, on certain state occasions, or royal visits. Never mind where. I found good bread-in spots. One trouble is, to make good bread in these warm climates is a great care, you can readily understand; and any extra work there is a burden against which cook and housekeeper rebel. And so baker's bread slips into the household and keeps undisputed sway. And such bread! gracious me! It would be sacrilege, desecration, vandalism to compare it kindly to the delicious wheaten loaf of high civilization, and I plead —not guilty! The little wizen-faced, chalky, chaffy affair! “No use," as the natives say.

I am, indeed, in love with the poet who wrotesummed up—all of man's earthly need, in three lines:

“A loaf of bread, a jug of wine,

And thou singing beside me-
And wilderness were paradise enow,”

Food, drink and companionship—the simple needs of life.

The old saying that“ Good flour is bread half made" would hold true to a certain extent, even in that climate, if used. But much of it is very inferior in quality. If bread be the staff of life, then the health and strength of a community depends more or less upon the quality eaten.

“And His disciples say unto Him, Whence should

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