having at their base a comparatively level space of considerable dimensions. A mountain stream flows through the village, and adds another charm to its picturesque appearance. A few of the houses are built on the sloping side of the hill; the majority, however, are built on the level ground.

Let us take a look at a house, or, properly speaking, a hut, and see how it is made. It belongs to my friend Manuma, to whom I will shortly introduce you. His former hut had been burnt in the last fight his people had fought with their neighbors, and this one took him three weeks to build, assisted by his family and friends.

The outlines of the hut are first marked on the ground. Posts are then driven in the ground around the circumference, about four feet apart, and projecting four feet above the surface. Along the tops of these are lashed long poles, which steady and connect them, and on which the rafters are to rest. On each side of the centre, about the same relative position as the foci of an ellipse, are two large poles, about fifteen feet high, along the tops of which the ridge-pole is laid, which is in length equal to the distance between the uprights. The rafters, two feet apart, are lashed to the ridge-pole and side-posts. They are curved so as to give a considerable arch to the roof, and smaller poles are lashed across them inside, binding the whole firmly and securely together. Across the upper parts of each of the main posts beams-or, properly speaking, braces-are lashed, extending to the rafters, the lower and longer one being about six feet from the ground.

The framework of the hut is now finished, and the whole has been done without using hammer or nail. Everything is secured with strong lashings of braided cocoanut fibre, and, in some places, pieces crossing have been jogged into one another. The whole house is almost mathematically correct in its elliptical peculiarities. The next thing to be done is to thatch the roof; and to receive the thatch, small, slender poles, about a foot apart, have been lashed across the rafters outside. The women of the family have not been idle while the men have been doing the heavier part of the work in building the frame. They have been busily engaged in plaiting the mats for thatching, of which a large number will be required. All not otherwise engaged have some share in performing this, from the smallest pickaninny just beginning to toddle to the boy too small to take part in the heavier work. The mats are made from the leaves of the sugar-cane; they are plaited around small sticks, in lengths of five feet, and two feet wide, and are securely lashed to the small poles across the outside of the rafters. Each layer is put on from the eaves to the ridge, as in shingling; and the whole forms a perfectly water-tight roof, which will defy the heaviest rains and strongest winds. The sides of the hut are closed by mats of the same material as the thatch, being raised or lowered at pleasure, and forming

the doors or windows of the hut, as may suit the fancy of its occupants.

The floor of the hut is now covered with clean white stones, or, more frequently, with pieces of clean white coral. To one side, or perhaps in the centre, is the fireplace, which is simply a shallow hole in the ground paved with stones. Mats of cane-leaf, of different sizes and degrees of fineness, are placed over the floor; and on these the inmates sit and sleep.

Having seen what sort of house our friend has,-which is similar to that of others,-let us step inside for a moment and be introduced to him and his family; for the mats at the side are rolled up, and we can see that they are at home.

We stoop down and enter under the eaves, greeting all the occupants of the hut with "talofa," or "good-day," and shaking hands with all, beginning with our host and hostess. This being done, we squat ourselves down on a mat, native fashion, in front of our host and alongside of his pretty daughter, who, as soon as she had seen us coming, had opened some green cocoanuts, and now offers us one to drink the milk. This is invariably offered to a visitor on his entering a hut, and it is deemed a gross breach of native etiquette not to accept it.

some fifty years

The head of the family-a fine-looking fellow of -is sitting cross-legged (tailor fashion) in front of us. He is naked to the waist, around which he wears a breech-cloth, and we are able to notice the points of his fine physique. About six feet in height, with deep, muscular chest and brawny arms and thighs, he forms a model worthy of a sculptor's chisel. His complexion is a light brown; his features regular,-nose straight, with well-expanded but not thick nostrils; mouth medium sized; lips moderately thick; ears small and well shaped; eyes dark, clear, and piercing. That which strikes us as most curious about him is his hair, which he wears in the primitive native fashion. It is of a reddish-brown color, about seven inches long, and stands straight out from his head, each individual hair on end, "like quills upon a fretful porcupine." The whole thing reminds us of some huge head-dress put on for the occasion. But it is only on special occasions that he wears his hair in this manner; for when he is at work he ties it up in a small bunch on top of his head, like a chignon. He has taken a good deal of trouble to get his hair in this condition, but seems to think that he is well repaid. In order to make each hair stiff so that it will stand, he resorts to the singular custom of whitewashing his head; and it is a curious sight to see a lot of young men and boys going around with their heads covered with lime, and looking in the distance like so many hoary patriarchs. The lime has to be applied about once a week during the early stages; but when the hair has become long and stiff, it need not be applied so often. This application

gives the hair, which is naturally jet-black, its red-brown color, but does not seem to injure the scalp. The lime is also applied for cleanly purposes.

Like all the rest of the Samoan men, our friend is tattooed from the hips to below the knee,-one solid mass of black, with the exception of a few narrow lines here and there. Tattooing is one of the superstitious customs which the missionaries have not yet been able to break up. It is a most painful operation, lasting some days, the boys being taken when they are about seventeen or eighteen years old. The operation is performed differently from the foreign manner, two persons being necessary. The needles-or rather the prickers-are made of a piece of hog's bone ground flat, in which slender, sharp-pointed spines are cut, and which are then lashed to a thin bamboo stick about six inches long. The instrument looks like a narrow miniature rake. One person holds and guides this, while the other taps it with a rod so as to drive it into the flesh. In the foreign fashion the needles are lashed to a vertical handle and the operation performed by one person.

(To be continued.)

FREDERIC B. VINTON.

ONE OF THE DUANES.

(Continued from page 233.)

CHAPTER XVIII. (Continued.)

SCANDAL is like a vigorous weed, which, having been sown, it is wellnigh impossible wholly to eradicate. Its roots can be torn away and fresh seed planted, and yet some neglected sprout is certain to remain, spread, and flourish where, for lack of nourishment, a finer variety of plant would droop and die.

Sidney realized this analogy keenly as he set his mind to work upon devising the surest and quickest method of vindicating Bonny Duane. There was so much at stake, and, looked squarely in the face, the hydra-headed monster of scandal presented such numerous complications, which must be dealt with before it could completely be destroyed, that his line of attack was not to be decided upon in a moment. He put his whole soul to the question, knowing that for the present all responsibility of action must rest with him; and many moments had passed before he rose from his reflections, telling himself that he knew in which way at least it would be wisest to begin.

Having so told himself, without further delay he wrote and dispatched a brief official communication to the adjutant, requesting that he be granted permission to leave his quarters for the period of one hour, on a matter of great importance, which would not necessitate absenting himself from the post.

Official hours were long past, but as the colonel happened still to be in his office, and as he cherished a sneaking admiration for his lieutenant even in his disgrace and arrest, the request was unquestioningly granted, and Jack Sidney was presently observed by several curious pairs of eyes to leave his quarters and ascend the piazza steps of those next door.

No one ever knew precisely what transpired during the forty or fifty minutes which elapsed before he appeared again, but shortly after he was once more safely under his own prison roof, Mrs. Revere, looking strangely pale and excited, in spite of evident efforts at calmness of demeanor, hastily left her house, and was seen to stop in turn at every set of quarters upon the post, save those occupied by Sidney, the surgeon, and one or two young bachelors who lived alone. At each of these places, by Sidney's request leaving his name entirely out

of the matter, Mrs. Revere carefully, elaborately, and with repressed nervousness of manner, corrected the story which since the night before had tingled upon everybody's tongue. She even went so far as to take the position of never having for a moment accepted it herself, and inserted many a side explanation of past circumstances coined by her own fertile brain, which was supposed to set the new version of the affair upon an indestructible foundation. She said she had long known of the existence of this black sheep in the Duane flock, although it was of course a surprise to her to learn of his identity with the deserter Dane. She almost felt as though in so saying she told the truth, so stupid did she think herself for never having even dreamed of some such explanation of puzzling circumstances before. There was a certain humiliation, as well as satisfaction, attendant on the course she had been induced or coerced by Sidney to pursue, which cut the woman of the world to the quick, though she would have died rather than reveal it by her manner. But after all, when the ordeal imposed upon her was done with, the satisfaction far overbalanced the humiliation in the scale of consideration for the future, by which it was largely weighed in Mrs. Revere's mind.

It was late when she had made her round of the garrison, and a like series of visits at the navy-yard was postponed until the next day. By that time, of course, the news had preceded her, but she kept to her plan of action, and faithfully performed the duty she had vowed to Sidney she would do. It was plain to her quick perception, even during their brief interview, that she had forfeited his long-standing friendship, though her recollection of the words she had used on that fatal night was too vague to let her fully understand the cause of the alteration. She only discerned that it existed, shrewdly conjectured the reason of the sudden change, and resolved to do her best to win the lost allegiance back again. Therefore he had not found it a difficult matter to induce Mrs. Revere to fall into and carry out his plans.

It was, however, with poignant reluctance that certain members of the Barrancas and navy-yard coterie allowed their choice plum to be wrested from their very lips, fairly before its full flavor had reached their longing palates. The salt wherewith the "Ladies' Reading Club" was salted would lose its best savor if, indeed, this rare incentive towards its support and maintenance must now be given up, and its latter, most important clause, relating to "mutual improvement," might as well be stricken out.

"Certain it is that scandal is good brisk talk, whereas praise of one's neighbor is by no means lively hearing. An acquaintance grilled, scored, devilled, and served with mustard and cayenne pepper excites the appetite, whereas a slice of cold friend with currant jelly is but sickly, unrelishing meat," as Mrs. Crawford quoted the night after the party, with sarcastic emphasis, to her acquiescent husband.