This pagan practice is very queer. I should say that the prison ava was of that not very welcome form that we elegantly call spit-ava, but of course there was no escape, and it had to be drunk. Fanny and I rode home, and I moralised by the way. Could we ever stand Europe again? did she appreciate that if we were in London, we should be ACTUALLY JOSTLED in the street? and there was nobody in the whole of Britain who knew how to take ava like a gentleman?
'Tis funny to be thus of two civilisations - or, if you like, of one civilisation and one barbarism. And, as usual, the barbarism is the more engaging.
Colvin, you have to come here and see us in our { native / mortal } spot. I just don't seem to be able to make up my mind to your not coming. By this time, you will have seen Graham, I hope, and he will be able to tell you something about us, and something reliable, I shall feel for the first time as if you knew a little about Samoa after that. Fanny seems to be in the right way now. I must say she is very, very well for her, and complains scarce at all. Yesterday, she went down SOLA (at least accompanied by a groom) to pay a visit; Belle, Lloyd and I went a walk up the mountain road - the great public highway of the island, where you have to go single file. The object was to show Belle that gaudy valley of the Vaisigano which the road follows. If the road is to be made and opened, as our new Chief Justice promises, it will be one of the most beautiful roads in the world. But the point is this: I forgot I had been three months in civilisation, wearing shoes and stockings, and I tell you I suffered on my soft feet; coming home, down hill, on that stairway of loose stones, I could have cried. O yes, another story, I knew I had. The house boys had not been behaving well, so the other night I announced a FONO, and Lloyd and I went into the boys' quarters, and I talked to them I suppose for half an hour, and Talolo translated; Lloyd was there principally to keep another ear on the interpreter; else there may be dreadful misconceptions. I rubbed all their ears, except two whom I particularly praised; and one man's wages I announced I had cut down by one half. Imagine his taking this smiling! Ever since, he has been specially attentive and greets me with a face of really heavenly brightness. This is another good sign of their really and fairly accepting me as a chief. When I first came here, if I had fined a man a sixpence, he would have quit work that hour, and now I remove half his income, and he is glad to stay on - nay, does not seem to entertain the possibility of leaving. And this in the face of one particular difficulty -
I mean our house in the bush, and no society, and no women society within decent reach.
I think I must give you our staff in a tabular form.
HOUSE.
+ o SOSIMO, provost and butler, and my valet. o MISIFOLO, who is Fanny and Belle's chamberlain.
KITCHEN
+ o TALOLO, provost and chief cook.
+ o IOPU, second cook.
TALI, his wife, no wages.
TI'A, Samoan cook.
FEILOA'I, his child, no wages, likewise no work - Belle's pet.
+ o LEUELU, Fanny's boy, gardener, odd jobs.
IN APIA.
+ ELIGA, washman and daily errand man.
OUTSIDE.
+ o HENRY SIMELE, provost and overseas of outside boys.
LU.
TASI SELE.
MAIELE.
PULU, who is also our talking man and cries the ava.
The crosses mark out the really excellent boys. Ti'a is the man who has just been fined half his wages; he is a beautiful old man, the living image of 'Fighting Gladiator,' my favourite statue - but a dreadful humbug. I think we keep him on a little on account of his looks. This sign o marks those who have been two years or upwards in the family. I note all my old boys have the cross of honour, except Misifolo; well, poor dog, he does his best, I suppose. You should see him scour. It is a remark that has often been made by visitors: you never see a Samoan run, except at Vailima. Do you not suppose that makes me proud?
I am pleased to see what a success THE WRECKER was, having already in little more than a year outstripped THE MASTER OF BALLANTRAE.
About DAVID BALFOUR in two volumes, do see that they make it a decent-looking book, and tell me, do you think a little historical appendix would be of service? Lang bleats for one, and I thought I might address it to him as a kind of open letter.
DEC. 4TH.
No time after all. Good-bye.
R. L S.