to our village (as we called Tanugamanono) and adopted the
chief's second son in my name, and here he was come to present himself
in person.

I shook hands with him, a ceremony he performed very gracefully with
great dignity. Then he offered me the six feet of sugar-cane, with the
remark that it was a small, trifling gift, unworthy of my high-chief
notice. I accepted it with a show of great joy and appreciation, though
by a turn of the head one could see acres of sugar-cane growing on the
other side of the river.

There was an element of embarrassment in the possession of this
charming creature. I could not speak the Samoan language very well at
that time, and saw, by his vague but polite smile, that much of my
conversation was incomprehensible to him. His language to me was so
extremely "high-chief" that I couldn't understand more than three words
in a sentence. What made the situation still more poignant was that look
of repressed fear glinting in the depths of his black velvety eyes.

I took him by the hand (that trembled slightly in mine, though he walked
boldly along with me) and led him about the house, thinking the sight of
all the wonders of Vailima might divert his mind. When I threw open the
door of the hall, with its pictures and statues, waxed floor and glitter
of silver on the sideboard, Pola made the regulation quotation from
Scripture, "And behold the half has not been told me."

He went quite close to the tiger-skin, with the glass eyes and big
teeth. "It is not living?" he asked, and when I assured him it was dead
he remarked that it was a large pussy, and then added, gravely, that he
supposed the forests of London were filled with these animals.

He held my hand quite tightly going up the stairs, and I realized then
that he could never have mounted a staircase before. Indeed, everything
in the house, even chairs and tables, books and pictures, were new and
strange to this little savage gentleman.

I took him to my room, where I had a number of letters to write. He sat
on the floor at my feet very obediently while I went on with my work.
Looking down a few minutes later I saw that he had fallen asleep, lying
on a while rug in a childish, graceful attitude, and I realized again
his wild beauty and charm.

Late in the day, as it began to grow dark, I asked Pola if he did not
want to go home.

"No, Teuila," he answered, bravely.

"But you will be my boy just the same," I explained. "Only you see