ver. He, a stalwart, well-oiled quadragenarian, shone with sweat
from his exertions, brandishing cooked pigs. At intervals, from one of
the squatted villages, an orator would arise. The field was almost
beyond the reach of any human speaking voice; the proceedings besides
continued in the midst; yet it was possible to catch snatches of this
elaborate and cut-and-dry oratory--it was possible for me, for instance,
to catch the description of my gift and myself as the _alii Tusitala, O
le alii o malo tetele_--the chief Write Information, the chief of the
great Governments. Gay designation? In the house, in our three curule
chairs, we sat and looked on. On our left a little group of the family.
In front of us, at our feet, an ancient Talking-man, crowned with green
leaves, his profile almost exactly Dante's; Popo his name. He had
worshipped idols in his youth; he had been full grown before the first
missionary came hither from Tahiti; this makes him over eighty. Near by
him sat his son and colleague. In the group on our left, his little
grandchild sat with her legs crossed and her hands turned, the model
already (at some three years old) of Samoan etiquette. Still further off
to our right, Mataafa sat on the ground through all the business; and
still I saw his lips moving, and the beads of his rosary slip stealthily
through his hand. We had kava, and the King's drinking was hailed by the
Popos (father and son) with a singular ululation, perfectly new to my
ears; it means, to the expert, "Long live Tuiatua"; to the inexpert, is
a mere voice of barbarous wolves. We had dinner, retired a bit behind
the central pillar of the house; and, when the King was done eating, the
ululation was repeated. I had my eyes on Mataafa's face, and I saw pride
and gratified ambition spring to life there and be instantly sucked in
again. It was the first time, since the difference with Laupepa, that
Popo and his son had openly joined him, and given him the due cry as
Tuiatua--one of the eight royal names of the islands, as I hope you will
know before this reaches you.

Not long after we had dined, the food-bringing was over. The gifts
(carefully noted and tallied as they came in) were now announced by a
humorous orator, who convulsed the audience, introducing singing notes,
now on the name of the article, now on the number; six thousand odd
heads of taro, three hundred and nineteen cooked pigs; and one thing
that particularly caught me (by good lu