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among them. Still I was happy as a lord, and cared not as long as I was left in peace.

I landed in Tahiti, I think, on the 10th of July, and it was now drawing towards Christmas; over five months had I been a wanderer and an outcast on Tahiti's lovely isle; but faies and bananas were beginning to pall on my nowise fastidious appetite, and I began to hanker after the fleshpots of Egypt. I determined to concentrate my energies in procuring a Christmas dinner. But how to do it? The religious people shunned me, because I did not go to church; the rich people detested me, because I would not work,

not one of them ever offered me any; and the saloon keepers hated me, because I would not drink their poison when invited into their houses by friends from the schooners. I was actually in what Mrs. Besant calls Kâma Loka,- betwixt and between, rejected by both the upper and lower strata of Tahitian society.

Still I was resolved to have a Christmas feast, although everything looked so unpromising. If there had been a trading vessel in port I should have fared. finely, but unfortunately there was none. Day after day passed until at last Christmas Eve had come, and I was still no nearer to the goal. One of my friends from the first month asked me jeeringly where I was going for Christmas, and I answered him savagely. I was really dangerous at that time and very little would provoke me; I considered the world did not use me well, although it was really my own doings. With what conflicting emotions I watched all the joyous preparations for the morrow; I, only I, among these people was debarred from participating in the festivities. That night I had some roasted faies and fish with my ancient native dame; poi was offered, but this I never could relish. Then I put on my cleanest shirt and coat, washed

by myself, and left the house with the fixed determination not to return until I had had a good dinner, or else - that I left unsaid or even unthought.

For hours I walked up and down the road beyond the town, arguing with myself the oft debated question, Is life worth living? I had not yet arrived at a satisfactory solution when midnight struck and I hurried to the Catholic Church to listen to the midnight mass.

I was stared at, of course, but nobody accosted me. When it was over I mingled for a few minutes with the throng, thinking that some one would perhaps invite me to accompany him, but seeing that they all avoided me, I quietly took my way to a sequestered nook, which I often frequented. It was where the small stream running past Papeete forms a waterfall at the foot of the mountain. Tonight it looked lovely ; the moon was right overhead, and its rays fell perpendicularly on the glistening cascade in prisms of opaline tints. I stood gazing on it awhile, dazed like, over its surpassing simple beauty; never before had I seen it so lovely! Surely, life was worth living!

The dawn was just breaking while I stood there, and before many minutes it was broad day. I was yet undecided. I had a piece of copper money in my pocket, a Brazilian "dump," this I threw into the air: "Head, life; tail, death!" As it dropped on the green sward I hesitated a little before I looked at it. I shut my lips firmly and stooped down to see. It was head! With a deep sigh of relief I threw myself down on the grass, and almost immediately fell asleep.

I must have slept the whole day, because the sun was nearly out of sight when I rose. I washed myself in the water beside me and felt greatly refreshed. My late depression had left me and I felt again in good spirits. With long strides I made for the town.

On the

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lighted and the windows were wide open, disclosing to my view the great Christmas tree and the joyous groups within. Brandon was married to the Queen's niece and had three children; these with some of their royal relatives were inside.

I stood in front of a large rose bush, intently watching the scene, ignorant that I could be plainly seen from the inside. Suddenly one of the children caught sight of me and pointed me out to the rest, when all set up a great outcry. A crowd of menials rushed out, and I was quickly overpowered as I attempted to escape. But I defended myself bravely at first, and when I was brought in a prisoner I had the left sleeve torn off my coat and my forehead was bleeding, and I suppose I looked rather objectionable.

A stout, middle-aged gentleman, whom I recognized as Brandon, met me on the veranda, with all the children behind him, and accosted me in a severe tone, "Who are you, and what are you doing on my premises?"

"I am doing you no harm, sir," said I respectfully. "Accident led me here, and I could not help looking at the Christmas tree."

One of the children said something to him in Tahitian, and he immediately ordered the natives to release me.

"Can I go, sir?" I asked.

Several of the children had been whispering to him, and nodding, he said to me : "Stay, you had better wash the blood from your face first, and adjust your dress. Come this way."

The house was surrounded with a veranda, and beckoning me to follow, he walked rapidly towards the right and through an open window into a dressing room. Giving one of the servants some instructions, he left me, saying, "I'll see you again directly."

The kanaka produced water and ail requisites, and stripped me of my coat.

I washed my hands and face, after which the servant placed a piece of sticking plaster over the wound. Then he brought me an armful of white clothes, and told me to pick out a complete suit from them. I was too bewildered to object to anything and did exactly as I was told, and was presently dressed as well as my worthy host himself. When I had finished Brandon appeared; he looked at me for an instant and his hard features relaxed into a smile as he observed my evident embarrassment. I had been taught to regard Brandon with some dread, as a hard man to encounter, and had always been very careful to avoid him, like a fool that I had been.

"Now," said he, as he took me out on the veranda, "who are you? Let me know all about you."

His kindly smile and words dispelled my diffidence, so I, without reserve, told all that I have related here, not even forgetting the two episodes with the

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dump." When I mentioned my fascination for the South Sea he laughed outright, and said that I was not the only young man who had experienced it. While we were talking his son came out and spoke to him; Brandon asked me to sit down for a moment, and then followed his son in. After an absence of about five minutes he returned and courteously invited me in to dinner.

I thought he would send me somewhere by myself, and as I was very hungry, I thanked him, and without further ado went with him inside; but what was my consternation when he, preceding me, brought me into a room, grandly decorated and lit up, where a number of well dressed people were assembled. I attempted to draw back when I saw where we were going, but a stern, "Come in!" from my host told me that there was no backing out now.

My entrance created no sensation,—— I

God

suppose they were advised of my advent,
-only two of Brandon's clerks, who
knew me, were startled, but they were
too wise to say anything. Of course, I
was placed below the salt at the table,
but otherwise there was no distinction
made between me and the most honored
guest. The tears came involuntarily in
my eyes when I remembered my forlorn
condition only a few hours previously
and my present happy moment.
had been good to me, and I had accom-
plished my purpose and was now enjoy-
ing a Christmas dinner. I was of too
careless disposition to worry myself about
the future, but still stray thoughts would
enter my head in reflecting that I should
probably have to revert to a diet of faies
and bananas again tomorrow. I enjoyed
myself, though, as well as the happiest
of them all, and filled my belly with the
good things before me. I drank no wine,
which was perhaps observed by my host
and influenced his actions afterwards.
After dinner everybody adjourned to
the Christmas tree, where my pockets
were stuffed to overflowing by the kind-
hearted children. When the guests had
settled down in groups, Mr. Brandon,
holding one of his little girls by the hand,
took my arm with the other and led me
out on the veranda.

"Now for the dismissal," thought I.
"Young man, I have been considering

your position," began he, with some feeling. "I was almost in the same circumstances myself many years ago. I was taken in hand by a good man and I have prospered. I'll tell you what I will do for you. I have an old schooner lying here on the beach; I will repair her and fit her out for a trading voyage among the islands. Are you competent to take charge of her ?"

I assured him with a few words that I felt myself competent to do so, which seemed to please him. A room should be furnished for me in one of his houses until the schooner was ready for sea, and my wages would begin the following day. Much more he said, but that was the gist of it.

Now, this yarn ought to end like this: that I sailed that schooner for many years; made a large fortune for myself by lucky ventures, and finally married one of Brandon's daughters, and lived happy ever after; but ay de mi! it does not end any ways like it. I sailed the old schooner for about a year, roving about the islands, and had my fill of the South Sea; but my pay was small, and there was no money in it, so I resigned my command and worked my passage to San Francisco. I have been hard up a half a dozen times since then,- it comes periodically, and I am not far off from it at the present day.

John C. Werner.

I MAY NOT.

I MAY not drop a burning brand upon a sunny plain,
And hope to touch to life and joy the blackened land again.
I may not trail my smallest sin across my brother's path,
And hope to wash the stain away in any earthly bath.

Carrie Blake Morgan.

WHY THE CITY OF SAINT FRANCIS?

A STUDY IN SPANISH NOMENCLATURE.

"Some may doubt it," said Father Crespi, "that we have passed the harbor of Monterey, and are in sight of that of San Fancisco."-Palou's Vida, p. 38. Translation of Father Adam.

Y what chance or law does the cabeza, or acknowledged head of the cities of California, today bear the name of the head of the order of Saint Francis and not that of some subordinate luminnary? Why was this great name of Saint Francis of Assisi preceded by, say that of San Antonio de Padua ? Was it prescience? was it vagary?— or an example of that nineteenth century acceptance of the miraculous which we know as mental telegraphy and which they knew as something else?

All these questions, carefully studied, will teach us at least this historic fact not often recognized intelligently even in literature. The Spanish nomenclature of the eighteenth century was, in every case, a solemn and recognized invocation, and was followed by an exquisite belief in the real presence of the canonized patron or patroness invoked. In Madrid, today, the last and highest form of this Real Presence is, with a superb dramatic instinct, recognized in the progress of the public procession by the strains of the Marcha Real.

When did the first conviction gain ground that Saint Francis had chosen to possess himself of not an inland city, presidio, or mission, such as were planned as a second cordon protected by the first maritime line of possession, but a harbor or puerto which for excellent reasons he did not purpose

prematurely revealing to either comandante or padre-fundador? Why was maritime as well as civic headship steadily reserved for the head of the order and for association with his name? What traditions of previous discovery were Portolá and Crespi following when they set off from San Diego de Alcalá for the port of Saint Francis without the least suspicion of so doing, and with only the intention of discovering Monterey? They carried with them Venegas and Cabrera Bueno, as we know. What mention of the port of Saint Francis does Cabrera Bueno contain? I am absolutely sure that an entirely intelligible answer to all these questions is contained both in the Spanish of Palou's Vida and the English of Mr. Bancroft's History, but I know of no brief and authoritative statement condensing and explaining all this for the reader who has not leisure for original authorities and documentary evidence.

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A certain misty and drizzling style of writing even has seemed to envelop the records of the earliest San Francisco as they come to us, the bay and the port, the presidio and Mission. On some foreordained morning in literature this mist will suddenly lift and reveal them all in one burst of California sunshine, in which Saint Francis shall come to his own. Meantime, long before the revelation of the port to Portolá and Crespi, he was evidently in as complete possession of it as Arthur yet is of Avalon.

Let us examine some of these records.

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