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would be, for the next day; and they would keep their tally, and, if keen, keep their neighbor's, too! When any boy had guessed right „Seven times, the game was his, and the trophy, whatever was agreed upon. Another, was to name something in the Hall, of which the first letter was given. And it was curious to note the ingenuity to keep it up. “Wrinkle," on the table-cloth, “crack” in the wall! Trust a boy for amusing himself?

The boys, little and big—from Euclid to alphabet --came to know, in the course of time, that, with the Bishop, “Let your moderation be known unto all men," meant "little men” as well. For they had always finished their pudding before he had decided what to do about eating his! But of this they heartily approved, for the bell must be rung for school, directly the dining-hall was cleared !

The natives are very fond of music. The boys attend chapel for matins and for evensong daily. They do the singing, and on Sundays, at the cathedral, all whose voices will permit must be in the choir, and very proud they are to sing

One little brownie was a marvel in the way of singing. His second teeth were not cut-not on the way, even, that could be seen. He was a half-caste--father English-mother a native. A little dot, of a blackeyed, curly-headed, small-handed, tiny-footed boy. But what a voice in that pipestem of a throat! The head-master said he had never heard such a voice, and I doubt if any one else had.

He would sing "John Brown,” and “Yankee Doodle" with much gusto, on the play-ground, whenever the spirit moved him, and that was pretty osten! He was often invited, by the Seniors, who were intent on baseball just then, to "shut up”!

“Ka Lani, you stop your noise.” One hymn he liked so much, it was called his


“Now, Ka Lani, sing your hymn.” The natives are very wide awake to any form of ridicule, and even where they can speak but little English, will detect at once, any banter or chaffing one may choose to offer. He would fix his eyes on the listeners, and burst out with, “Oft in danger, oft in woe”-watching closely to see if approval and delight was in their faces, and if he detected anything like a laugh at his expense, he would rub his little bare feet on the floor, and in his cheeks one could see the rose through all the brown!

The evening “preparation” was until half-past eight; the Juniors went to the dormitory earlier. The schoolbuilding is in a large paddock—about an eighth of a mile distant-apd with very fine verandas.

This little fellow, who was a great pet, would often coax; “Me go look stars-go look stars.” I regret to say that in the morning he would be just as eager to "go look black pigs."

He was not, altogether, a “good” boy, but had as much of mischief and fun in him as the average white boy. Hearing a great “war of words” one day, in which his voice seemed too prominent, I went out as far as the Chapel, where I saw one of the big boys on top, painting. It was work-hour. This little mite had come along with his “pick-up” tin-a five-gallon kerosene can, with a piece of rope strung across it for a handle. He had set it down, and stood there in his little bare feet, with trousers rolled up above his knees, his shirt tucked inside, and his little old battered-up felt hat on the back of his head (for it was very warm) looking up to see how the painting was going for he had an interest in that Chapel! “Here, Chip," said the Giant, “don't be looking up here--just go on with your work!” He opened his mouth for a minute, drew in his breath, pulled himself together without more ado-gave his little pants a hitch, and then, came in the shout from that pigmy, to the very top of the Cross, “You jus' shut up yer head-yer ain't my boss-never was—I stan' 'ere's long as I like!“If you don't go to work pretty quick, Chippy," calmly spake the Giant, "you'll see me down there."

"Well, you come down, then. I ain't 'fraid you, I guess, if you are big." Just then he saw the Giant putting one foot on the ladder, when he grabbed up his tin, and graduated from there to the veranda, diving under the fence and losing his hat!

" Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful world,

With the wonderful water around you curled,
And the wonderful grass upon your breast -
World, you are beautifully drest.

" The wonderful air is over me,

And the wonderful wind is shaking the tree;
It walks on the water, and whirls the mills,
And talks to itself on the tops of hills.

“ You, friendly earth! How far do you go

With the wheat-fields that nod and the rivers that flow,
With cities, and gardens, and cliffs, and isles,
And people upon you for thousands of miles ?

“Ah! you are so great and I am so small,

I tremble to think of you, world, at all;
And yet, when I said my prayers to-day,
A whisper inside me seemed to say:
You are more than the earth, though you are such a dot;
You can love and think, and the earth can not.”

When a new boy came to the Bishop's, he brought all his “boy's traps” with him, such as taro-patch fiddle, bats and balls, kites, etc. A big fellow of a native came up one night, and with him, to the astonishment and delight of all, with the exception, I may say, of the head-master and a few others ! the largest kind of an accordeon (misnomer).

Before "Chapel,” in the morning, that music was to be heard, on the verandas of the dormitories—for a brief spell; at noon, it again struggled in the air; and it was heard in the recreation hours, and in the twilight!

The head-master who has had twenty-five years' experience in teaching English boys, thought best not to notice it at all and let him play it out—and he knew he would; that it would in time die a natural death; the boys themselves would weary of it and so

“kill” it, as they express it, and there would be no nagging and no hard feelings.

And so it was it became silent, and was never heard again! A drum- Christmas present !-went down also to an early grave! But of baseball the boys never tire, and the ground used for that game is large, and the "teams" always going.

The Bishop is a tremendous worker, up early and down late, reading prayer in the Chapel at 6:30 in the morning, and at midnight with his lantern going the rounds of the dormitories, to see if “all is well”-his last benediction before going to sleep himself. He has a great fund of dry humor quiet and grave as he ever is. It is a notable fact that the men who enjoy humor most are uniformly men of deep seriousness of nature. A little fun now and then is relished by the wisest men.

I asked him one day why he did not write a book of his experience on the Islands -- it would be a fortune. "A misfortune, you mean.”

Speaking of an English bishop, with reference to laundry-work, I remarked I did not know a Bishop was obliged to think of such matters. Mrs. Willis remarked, “I suppose his wife must.” But the Bishop retorted quickly, “No, not when he has a "See' [sea] behind him.”

On Sunday nights at half-past eight a light supper was always served by Mrs. Willis herself, in the daintily appointed parlor, for the entire household; and it would be impossible to find a more kindly and genial host than his Lordship at such times.

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