sket on her arm. She is a bride, and must make the consul's two
thousand dollars a year go far. A priest in a black gown and a young
Mormon elder from Utah regard each other coldly. A hundred Chinese
cafe-keepers, stewards, and merchants are endeavoring to pierce the
exteriors of the foods and estimate their true value. The market is
not open yet. It awaits the sound of the gong, rung by the police
about half past five. Four or five of these officials are about,
all natives in gaudy uniforms, their bicycles at the curb, smoking,
and exchanging greetings with friends.

The question of deepest interest to the marketers is the fish. The
tables for these are railed off, and, peering through the barriers,
the onlookers comment upon the kinds and guess at the prices.

The market-house is a shed over concrete floors, clean, sanitary,
and occupied but an hour or two a day. There are three main divisions
of the market, meat, fish, and green things. Meat in Tahiti is better
uneaten and unsung. It comes on the hoof from New Zealand. Now, if you
are an epicure, you may rent a cold-storage chamber in the glacerie,
and keep your steaks and roasts until tender.

Fish is the chief item to the Tahitian. Give him only fish, and he
may murmur at his fate; but deny him fish, and he will hie him to the
reef and snare it for himself. All night the torches of the fishermen
gleam on the foaming reef, and often I paddle out near the breakers and
hear the chants and cries of the men as they thrust their harpoons or
draw their nets. So it is the women who sell the fish, while the weary
husbands and fathers lie wrapped in dreams of a miraculous draught.

There are three great aquariums in the world, at Honolulu, Naples, and
New York. There is no other such fish-market as this of Papeete, for
Hawaii's has become Asiaticized, and the kanaka is almost nil in the
angling art there. But those same fish that I gazed at in amazement in
the tanks of the museums are spread out here on tables for my buying.

Impossible fish they are, pale blue; brilliant yellow; black as
charcoal; sloe, with orange stripes; scarlet, spotted, and barred in
rainbow tints. The parrot-fish are especially splendid in spangling
radiancy, their tails and a spine in their mouths giving them their
name.

The impression made upon one's first visit to the Papeete market is
overwhelming, the plenitude of nature rejoicing one's heart, and the
care of the Great Consciousness for be