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Austin's Hawaiian weekly. (Honolulu [Hawaii) 1899-190?, September 23, 1899, Image 4

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Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn85047152/1899-09-23/ed-1/seq-4/

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AUSTIN'S HAWAIIAN WEEKLY.
mercy. The grounds, both in ami about the
buildings, some four years ago, were literally
sown with rocks, large boulders, smaller rocks
and innumerable stones. To-day this former
rocky desert, where even the cactus failed to raise
its prickly head, is now the home of the jessamine,
the honeysuckle, the oleander and the rose : a gar
den of Eden in a veritable Inferno ; truly extremes
meet, and these grand workers in this mid-Pacific
terra incognita arc doing their good works
patiently, thoroughly, nobly; to them when their
tired eyes are closed in the last sleep ; their weary
hands meeting across a pulseless heart; in tluit
supreme moment,
"When life's fitful fever's o'er"
Ihen will they hear the voice of the Master,
saying: "Well done thou good and faithful ser
vant." On the road homeward to liberty and civiliza
tion again, now that this vast territory of 6,030
acres has been safely investigated, it wou'd be
well to have some further facts inculcated which
would lead to dispelling the glamou and drea 1
which surrounds the "Wards of the Nation" and
their comfortable, even if iso'ated, mid-ocean
home, and thus present the other side of the
shield.
It will be remembered that the settlements are
situated on a natural, small, extension of land,
which may be seen on any map of Molokai jutting
out from about the northern center of the island
into the surrounding waters. The area of this
piece is 6,000 acres, about 8 square miles, and
this is all the territory allotted to the Nation's
wards. On this there are now about 1,100 "sirk"
including men, women and children, with an addi
tional number of about 100 "clean" persons, i. e..
sisters, clergy, physician, native and fore'gn
nurses, teachers and servants, a grand total of
1,200 souls. Of these "sick" there are about i.oo
Hawaiians, including half-castes: about 50
Chinese and about 40 white foreigners. Some of
the latter have been located there for years, all of
whom, however, have led radically immoral
lives. The death rate at one time was 24 per
cent., it is now about 1 1 per cent.
The Hawaiian Government in the past, dur
ing everv sidministration has been most gen
erous in the care and keep of these " wards."
a fact well-known, understood and most thor
oughly appreciated by the well-fed. well
housed, inhabitants of the reservation of
6000 acres, occupied by them on their isolated,
rock-bound and sea-girdled peninsula, in the
mid-Pacific.
The Spotted Pig Mystery.
UV KM-IS I'AKKKIt HUTI.KR.
Timville was in the throes of the annual
municipal campaign when Widow Mikesell's
spotted pig was stolen, and never was a pig
stolen at a more unlucky time. The great
fight of the campaign was over the otlice of
town marshal, and every one of Timville's
two hundred citizens was deeply interested in
the fight, for the nominees were Eben Oil
worth, who had held the ollice for four terms,
and Simon Long, the only citizen who had no
visible means of support.
Eben Dilworth had served long and well,
and it seemed a pity to deprive him of the
position. Among the women he was a great
favorite, for he was never too busy to catch a
wayward hen, or to tie up a clothes-line, and
he would even run errands to the grocery
when his rheumatism was not bothering him.
If the female portion of Timville had been
able to vote, Eben Dilworth would have been
a far-and-away winner.
Hut when Si Long nominated himself, the
contest took a new aspect. Si was the town
"dead-beat," and lived systematically on
forced loans. He assessed everyone with
great impartiality, and as he faithfully re
frained from work, he was known as the
"aristocracy." Now, an aristocracy is well
enough, if it is self-supporting, but as the aris
tocracy of Timville was not, it became a bur
den. It was plain that if Si Long could be
elected town marshal he would be able to live
as an aristocrat should, on the monthly salary
of twenty dollars. Thus arose two factions,
one of which believed in rewarding a faithful
officer by continuing him in ollice, and the
other of which stood for the policy of making
a necessary expense cancel an unnecessary
one.
The chief argument, aside from this, against
the election of Eben Dilworth was that he bad
not in all the years of his marshalship arrested
an offender, and this was the point on which
the Lonyites made their great fight. Against
this it was asserted that there had been no one
to take in custody, and that even the most
efficient ollicial could hardly be expected to
arrest culprits when no one was willing to
pose as a criminal. To this again the Long
ites declared that old Eben would not dare to
arrest anyone, if there should happen to be
anyone to arrest, because at best be was
scarcely able to walk with a cane, and it was
a patent fact that he could not see live feet in
front of his nose.
It was here the case stood when the great
storm of the summer of 1897 burst over Tim
ville. The lightning Hashed, the thunder
roared, the wind blew, and rain and bail fell
in torrents. Everyone, of course, ran and bid
in the cyclone celbirs, and when the storm
passed they emerged to find windows broken
and garden patches laid waste. But this was
not the worst. When Widow Mikesell went
out to feed her spotted pig that evening, it was
gone! The pig-house gate was latched, there
were no openings through which it could have
wilfully vacated the place, and it was clear
that the pig had been carried away.
It was a small pig. but its absence created a
great uproar in Timville. Everyone knew
before of the spotted pig, Widow Mikesell
was the greatest gossip in all Timville, and if
every inhabitants male and female, did not
know the weight, appearance and price paid
for the spotted pig, it was not through her
neglect. She bad labored long and well to
impart the information. Anyone in Timville
could have told you off-hand how many spots
Widow Mikesell's pig bore, and how many
times a day she fed it, and of whom she
bought it, and whethei she paid too much or
too little.
But the pig was gone, and it had been car
ried away at a time when its absence meant
much to the rival candidates for the post of
town marshal.
"Now," said Sol Gregg, the postmaster
and barber, " we'll see of Ole Eben kin ketch
a thief. Ef he kin, he gits the place. Ef he
don't. Si Long gits it."
This expressed the views of Timville to a
clot, and Eben found himself face to face with
the question "who stole the spotted pig?"
There was absolutely no clue. The pig had
been in the pen; now it was gone. Its style,
size, appearance and earmarks were known
to everyone, but they were but slight things on
which to institute a search.
It was but three days to election day, and
Eben was forced to act quickly. The first
oay he spent talking the matter over in front
df the grocery.
One by one they discussed each of the two
hundred citizens, but none of them seemed
likely to have stolen the spotted pig. There
seemed to he no one in Timville capable of
having done such a thing.
The second day Eben investigated the
butcher shop. Hank Voder, the jolly butcher
offered him every opportunity for a complete
investigation, but nothing like pork could be
found in the place, except a keg of pigs' feet
from St. Louis. After looking them over one
by one Eben decided they were not the feet
of the spotted pig, for the spotted pig was but
a young thing, and these feet were all full
grown, besides which they showed evidence
of having been in pickle for about eight
weeks.
From house to house, from store to store.
Eben Dilworth tramped, his cane punctuating
his steps. Occasionally he would run his
hand through his long gray beard, wipe his
glasses ami scratch his head thoughtfully.
For the first time in years he donned his silver
star ol office, and his good-natured face grew
stern. Every here and there be would be
stopped by a question :
" Hi, Eben, how are ye gettin on?"
" Very good," he would reply " I almost
got him now."
" Is he one o" the Timville folks?"
'lie is."
And on he would tramp.
The excitement grew intense. Who could
it have been? Who was the guilty man?
Neighbors regarded neighbors with suspic
ion, but the disappearance of the spotted pig
remained a mystery. Only one thing was
sure; if the culprit could be caught he would
not be allowed to escape. The town council
personally visited the lock-up and saw that it
was in good condition and that escape from it
was impossible.
The day before election Eben Dilworth
was more active than ever. His cane fairly
patted on the walks of Timville. It was a
clay of suspense and anxiety, and when at
length evening came and Eben Dilworth
thumped into the grocery where nearly all the
male portion of Timville was congregated, he
was accosted by many anxious faces.
"Well," said Bumstead, the grocer, "yer
don't seem ter of got him, Eben."
"No," he said, seating himself on an up
turned barrel, "1 ain't."
"An' you ain't found no trace o' the pig? "
asked Sal Gregg.
"That I ain't savin'," said Eben. "Mebbr
I hev, an. mebby I ain't. You'll know day
after tomorrer!"
"Day after tomorrer!" exclaimed Bumstead.
"What yer mean. Eben?'
"I mean this," he said, slowly, shaking his
cane to emphasize his words. "Day after to
morrer, ef I am 'lected again, I'm redy to ar
rest someone someone, mind ye I name no
names,-fer steali'n ther spotted pig. Ef I ain't
'lected et won't be none o' my business, but I
give ye my word ef I'm 'lected I'll make an
arrest."
"Well why in thunder don't yer arrest him
now?" asked Bumstead.
Eben got clown from the barrel and moved
toward the door. Then he turned and faced
them.
"Because," he said, slowly, "I don't think I
had ort to arrest nobody what's runnin' fer
office in Timville. El wold'ntbe to ther credit
o' the town!"
Then he went home.
When he had left Si Long got up and said
with great vehemence.
"Et's a lie. I never stole ther spotted pig."
"Nobody hain't said yer did, Si"said Bum
stead, " you ain't ther only one what's run
nin' fer ollice 'sides Eben. We ain't goin
to say notbin' erbout et 'till Eben makes his
arrest."
Cuiiliimcit on I'tigc 6.

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