he benches or grouped about the
confectionery-stands. Many carriages and automobiles were parked in
the shadows, holding the more reserved citizens--the governor, the
royal family, the bishop, the clergy, and dignified matrons of girth.

The bachelors and male coquets of the Tahitians and French, with a
sprinkling of all the foreigners in Papeete, the officers and crews
of the war-ship Zelee and sailing vessels, smoked and endeavored to
segregate vahines who appealed to them. The dark procureur general
from Martinique had an eye for beauty, and the private secretary of
the governor was in his most gallant mood, a rakish cloth hat with
a feather, a silver-headed stick, a suit of tight-fitting black,
and a tiare Tahiti over his ear, marking him among the other Lotharios.

The band was led by a tall, impressive native who both beat and hummed
the airs to guide the others. A tune ended, the bandsmen hurried to
mix with the audience, to smoke and flirt. The shading acacia-trees
lining the avenues permitted privacy for embraces, kisses, for making
engagements, and for the singing of chansons and himenes of scandalous
import. Better than the Latin, the Tahitian likes direct words and
candor in song.

French naval officers and sailors passed and repassed, or sought
the obscurity of the mangoes or the acacias. One heard the sibilance
of kisses, the laughter, and the banter, the half-serious blows and
scoldings of the vahines who repelled over-bold sailors. In an hour
the sedate and the older took leave; the governor and the procureur
turned into the Cercle Militaire for whist or ecarte and a glass
of wine, the carriages withdrew, and the band's airs and manner
of playing took on a new freedom and abandon. A polka was begun,
and couples danced upon the grass, the ladies in their peignoirs,
their black hair floating, and their lips chanting, their wreaths
and flowers nodding to their motions.

In retired nooks where the lamp-lights did not penetrate ardent ones
threw themselves into the postures and agitations of the upaupa,
the hula.

Boys now began to light the flambeaux for the retraite. These
were large bundles of cocoanut-husks and candlenuts soaked in oil,
and they gave a generous flare. Suddenly, we heard the mairie-bell
tolling. The band-leader climbed upon the roof of the kiosk, descended,
and gave a vigorous beat upon the air for "the Marseillaise," which
ends all concerts.

It was quickly over, and seizing the f