CONGRATULATIONS.

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knowing our infirmities, made his address short, but none the less impressive.

This and other sayings of our dear teachers in the Chapel and school I have preserved, owing to the habit then begun of keeping a diary; for which purpose Mr. Wakefield gave me a book every year, with a full page for Sunday; and from that day to this, with very few exceptions, I have never failed to keep a daily record of my life.

Coming out of the Chapel by way of the Bishop's room, where he and Mr. Carter and Mr. Selby were unrobing, our hands were warmly seized by a crowd of loving friends.

Lolomaran and Wondres could only smile and say, what I must translate by, "This is very good, indeed, Pomo!" and then Wondres corrected himself and said, "No, not Pomo any more, but Percy! Very good, indeed, friend Percy!

And so, indeed, it was.

The Bishop took my hand, and smiled upon me with the grandeur and holiness, wisdom and sweetness, power and gentleness, born of communion with Christ, all aglow in his noble face. He called me his son, and said he looked forward to the day when he should be called to lay his hands upon me in Confirmation, and if it were God's will, in Ordination, that I might go forth as His messenger to my own people.

Mr. Carter spoke to me on the verandah, and warned me of the dangers which would now come thick upon me, and of the strength given me to meet them; which strength I must use. He invited me to come and sit with him in his room.

My Namesake-how proud I was of him!—also shook my hand. His eyes were full of loving tears as they gazed into mine. He kissed my forehead, patted me on the back, but did not speak; he laughed a trembling laugh instead, and we understood each other perfectly.

Mr. and Mrs. Selby were standing by the path leading over to Mr. Carter's house. They congratulated Mr. Wakefield,

and shook hands with me, calling me Little Percy. I am not sure but at that moment sweet-potatoes, in their undug condition, seemed more distasteful to me than ever. Monday with its coarse work and common troubles contrasted very poorly with such a day as that; but I tried to remember that the quality of Sunday's work had to be proved by that of Monday.

After sitting for a while in Mr. Carter's room, looking at his beautiful photographs of the Holy Land, which seemed so barren, stony, and unblessed, and of walled Jerusalem, which my Namesake told me was likely to be fought for again, when its present unbelieving desecrators had dragged out their existence to the last; and that the sea, breaking through the narrow coast line, might yet bring to its wharfs and quays the commerce of the West to meet the commerce of the East-I wished Mr. Carter good-night, and went round to Mr. Wakefield's room, where he sat dozing in his chair. Without awaking him I got down all my books, and was very quiet, but very busy, writing on every scrap of paper that belonged to me, and on my slate, and to be continued on my clothes next day by Mrs. Selby, my new name: PERCY POMO.

CHAPTER XX.

MALAGAI ON WASHING, AND MR. WAKEFIELD ON GLORY.

ROGANI and Mr. Wakefield had left for the Islands with a large party in the Aurora. I remained in Happy Island with Mr. Carter for the Winter School.

On the vessel's return from her first trip, I received my first letter. It was from my Namesake, in his best Pombuana, telling me all the news of the voyage, and expecting a long letter from me in answer, which the Aurora would carry back.

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As my letter was to be a long one, I took a sheet of ruled foolscap out of Percy's drawer, and sat down at his table on Sunday afternoon. I began in English! on the grandest scale, and regardless of ink. He had addressed me as his dear Son. My filial response was not a success. It ran thus:

MY DEAR FEATHER,

"Hapy Iland,

Sandy, 1583.

I loved you. Thes you are Léta. I write to you in Englesh speck; I want to tell you everythengs at Hapy Iland. But a lettar that were not well because me my word Englesh I do not no." (I then relapsed into Pombuana; but broke out again in "Englesh" at the conclusion, which was as follows :) "That doo now. Good evening. Hear my naméd. "You are Sun,

PERCY POMO. Good bey."

This was an important visit of Mr. Wakefield to Pombuana; and it is owing to his having kept a very strict diary, together with Rogani's good memory, that I am able to tell you something about it.

The house was built; and Valé and his wife were handsomely rewarded. Rogani and Percy Wakefield took up their quarters there, and were left by the Aurora for three months.

My friend was mistaken in his idea, that now he was independent both of Malagai and Toroa; for next morning the former tambooed the house, and every one who desired to enter it had to pay a sum of money down to Malagai for the privilege. He also imposed a tax upon the friends of every lad who went to Happy Island.

Toroa too was mightily displeased at being deserted, as he called it, and it was grievous to him to see Rogani in high favour and familiar with the use of all Percy's keys. He perse

cuted the poor family worse than ever; and it required all their united cunning to be able to receive or to keep any valuable whatsoever. Percy told them to call everything his. Toroa further annoyed my friend by forbidding his boy Manaha to go to Morning Prayer at the house, and became as perplexingly disagreeable as he could. Nevertheless, he and Mr. Wakefield never ceased to be friends, otherwise they could not have afforded to quarrel as they did.

One day, when Mr. Wakefield, Rogani, and Kiukilu were busily washing clothes in the beautiful stream at Taétavé, the voice of Malagai suddenly startled them, and, on looking up, they beheld that Chief upon the bank, carrying a small bundle of clothes-his complete wardrobe-which consisted of two red handkerchiefs (one a present from Percy to Tulu), three crimson shirts, late of Happy Island (one Taorémbe's), and a boy's pair of dungaree trousers, the particular boy having been me.

"I want to help," said Malagai, "in order that the wash may be great, and the god propitiated. I wish I had more clothes to help with; you must bring me new ones, Waykay, These trousers are a little boy's."

next year.

"What is the use of clothes if you never wear them?" asked Percy; the sweat from his brow falling into the zinc bucket, in which he was tussling with a pair of white flannel trousers, his bare feet being in the cool stream, where the washed clothes were floating to get the soap out of them.

The question was a reasonable one, for Malagai's "Eastern" clothes were never put on, except in a violent hurry, wrong side before, and all at once, by the whole force of the eight Mrs. Malagais, when the Aurora was in sight.

"I keep them," answered he, "to help you to wash with! But these are too small, too few, and too old. Look here!" holding up a shrunken shirt; "and tell me, friend Waykay, how do you and Bishop manage on board ship about washing

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89

clothes? Does not the god become offended because the washing is small?"

"The boys wash for us; but we wash as little as possible, because water is scarce."

"Not so good as here at Taétavé, in the home of you and me, eh? But I suppose that you and the Bishop wash a cloth or two, just to keep the god in a good humour. Isn't that it? And next year you must bring me a piece of the tindalo for washing clothes?"

"What does he mean?" inquired the amazed washerman. "The Charm for washing clothes," explained the Chief, "what do you call it, Kiukilu?”

"Backetty," said Kiukilu, tapping the bucket he held in his

hand.

"That boy is unwise!" cried Malagai, picking up a small piece of soap which had been thrown away. "This!"

"Oh, soap!" said Percy, laughing, "all right, you shall have some, and we'll teach Talana and Tiola to wash for you, as the white women do for the white men.

'Good," replied the Chief, "do not forget. By-and-bye I'll come and look on." And throwing his bundle to Rogani, he departed.

The fact is that this great person thought the washing on Saturday was quite as much a religious ceremony as the praying on Sunday, and also that it was of the nature of a propitiatory sacrifice; he would therefore just as soon have ventured to interfere with the praying on Sunday as to assist in the washing on Saturday.

Once his calculations were terribly upset by Percy's washing on a Friday, and he appeared next day, about noon, wanting to know if Percy had "Sundayed" yet.

"To-morrow," said Percy.

"No," answered Malagai, "yesterday was Wash-clothes, and therefore to-day must be Sunday."