Grandpa had a farewell
meeting at the stone church in the morning, at which about twenty-five
hundred natives were present. Grandpa bade them good-by, and Judge Ii
[Ee], one of themselves, expressed their farewell. Many crowded round to
say their last "aloha." It really made us feel sad to part from this
interesting people. We longed to labor among them, and continue the good
work so favorably begun.

Monday morning, July 6th, we went on board the bark Comet. Farewells
were said; our visit at these islands was ended; and we were homeward
bound.

What happy memories cluster around that little group of islands in the
Pacific! We received only good deeds and kind words while there. The
houses of missionaries and foreigners were ever opened to us in
hospitality, and the natives were ready with a hand-grasp and a hearty
"aloha."

It is only about forty-three years since the missionaries first went
there, and nobody could read or write, nobody had ever written in their
language, and now--thanks to our heavenly Father and the
missionaries--almost all the natives can do both.

What should we be, if only a little over forty years ago, our parents
had been degraded heathen, knowing nothing of God, wandering about as
naked and as wicked as those poor Hawaiians were? We ought to thank God,
both for them and for ourselves,--for ourselves, because we were not
born thus, and for them, because the light of the gospel and of
civilization has dawned upon them.

XX.

Voyage to San Francisco.

"Now, aunty, tell us about your homeward voyage," said Willie as I made
my appearance in the sitting-room at the usual time. So I began:--

* * * * *

Our voyage was a tedious one, for we had a succession of calms all the
way. It was very discouraging, for we would be sailing with a good
breeze, our sails all filled; then the wind would die away, and the
sails would flap lazily against the mast.

Our captain was patient and good-natured, and so were we. That shows
you the power of example. If the captain had fumed and fretted, and
wondered why we could not have a wind, very likely we should have felt
ill-natured and looked cross too, and have had a very unpleasant time.
As it was, we made the best of our calms, and hoped for a breeze, and
rejoiced even if we were "making haste slowly."

On the ninth day out, we had some variety, for a shoal of fish passed
us, called albacoa; we caught a fine large