ple, and suddenly
disappear. A few steep stairs, a quick turn, and one was on the
broad balcony, with easy-chairs and firm tables, and bells to hand
for Joseph's ear.

In a room off the balcony there was a billiard-table, the cloth
patched or missing in many spots, and with cues whose tips had
long since succumbed to perpetual moisture. A few old French books
were on a shelf, and a naughty review or two of Paris on a dusty
table. Undoubtedly, this club had begun as a mariner's association,
and there was yet a decided flavor of the sea about it. Indeed, all
Tahiti was of the sea, and all but the mass of natives who stayed in
their little homes were at times sailors, and all whites passengers
on long voyages. Everything paid tribute to the vast ocean, and all
these men had an air of ships and the dangers of the waves.

Nautical almanacs, charts, and a barometer were conspicuous,
and often were laid beside the social glasses for proof in
hot arguments. Occasionally an old Chinese or two, financiers,
pearl-dealers, labor bosses, or merchants, drained a glass of eau
de vie and smoked a cigarette there. One sensed an atmosphere of
mystery, of secret arrangements between traders, or hard endeavors
for circumvention of competitors in the business of the dispersed
islands of French Oceania.

A delightful incident enlivened my first visit, and gave me an
acquaintance with a group of habitues, When I reached the balcony I
saw a group of Frenchmen at a table who were singing at the top of
their voices. I sat down at the farthest table and ordered a Dr. Funk.

I did not look at them, for I felt de trop; but suddenly I heard them
humming the air of "John Brown's Body," and singing fugitive words.

"Grory, grory, harreruah!" came to my ears, and later, "Wayd' 'un S'ut'
in le land de cottin."

They were making fun of me I thought, and turned my head away. It
would not do to get angry with half a dozen jovial Frenchmen.

"All Coons Look alike to Me," I recognized, though they sang but
fragments of the text.

Through a corner of my eye I saw them all anxiously staring at me;
then one of the merrymakers came over to me. I had a fleeting thought
of a row before he bowed low and said in English:

"If you please, we make good time, we sing your songs, and must be
happy to drink with you."

He announced himself as M. Edmond Brault, chief clerk of the office
of the secretary-general, fresh-faced, glowing and with a soul for
music