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The Honolulu Times
THE HONOLULU TIMES.
ANNE M. PRESCOTT,
Editor and Propr.
All communications to the Honolulu
Times should be sent in at least
three days before publication signed
by the author, to the ofllce, 82 Merchant
HONOLULU, DECEMBER, 1902.
"And when the)' had preached
the gospel to that city, (Paul and
Barnabas) and bad Irtught many,
they returned again td Lystra, and
to Iconium and Antioch. Confirming
the souls of the disciples,
(strengthening them) and exhorting
them to continue in the faith,
and that we must through much
tribulation enter into the kingdom
Speaking of Poetry as the greater,
all-compelling art of every age
and clime, appealing as it docs to
all that is best in man, the writer
would say, and with all reverence
that the Lord's Prayer is thciuot
sublime epic ever written ; and after
that one must turn to thoe
glorious Psalms that forever sing
themselves in one's car- and then
onto the stately rhythm of the Prophets.
But, if one would seek a
solemn requiem and warning, then
must he look for the Revelation of
St. Tohn the Divine. The Bible,
the Word of God, is the only poetry
that can meet all needs or- satisfy
the human heart.
It is said of Gray's "Elegv''
that it is that perfect not a word
could be taken out and another
inserted in its stead without marring
the transcendent beauty of
What is there about gold money
that so attracts, outside of its intrinsic
value the color?
"fgtycoiisncss $nillcllj n fyiltoii."
HONOLULU, DECEMBER, li)02.
A very tiny and clever Japanese
boy of four years, but a whole
Kindergarten in that mite of humanity,
has his time spent in a
shop, and often given, in a purse
of his very own, silver -coin to play
with and to count. But, he told
his father the other tlav, that "he
liked the red kind!"
Ah, the Japanese ! We shall need
to look to our laurels presently:
Guess that's all right Tommy,
don't you fret.
1 mn i
"If a man cheats you once it's
his shame; if twice, (Legislature)
it is your ."
Saturday, All Saints' Day wc
are writing to the cool music of the
soft-falling rain lovely indeed !
The sea is dead still, except
the murmur of those breakers
as they curl over the reef. No
craft is to be seen today too
thick. The country is looking
fine. We get plenty of mullet
these days. My big Japanese girl
can both catch and cook it.
Buildings on the same plan and
at the same rate of cost as the
school-cottages for teachers, all
.over the Territory, are quite
enough good for the "Industrial
Schools," and the pine tables and
common chairs and shades for
windows, arc also, just the thing.
Boxes also can be utilized and
home-made closets, shelves- bookcases,
etc. But perfect sanitation
and cleanliness and orcjer and
thrift and economy, down to a
piece of string are what will help
to make such schools a success
morally and financially. They
will need, call for. no polished
floors or palace furniture. It is
"character" we are seeking to build
up life and health and all that
goes to make the truly Christian
man or woman. Lacking truth
and industry all is in vain. Now,
we contend that it doesn't need a
fortune to start these schools. They
are to be for the children of the
poor that they may learn, early, to
be self-helpful. Look at the loads
of finest melons and vegetables that
have been passing Wailupe for
weeks- raised, nor by a Professor
neither at the instigation of one,
but by a Chinese coolie succeeding
by industry and vigilance, with
but rudest appliances at his command!
We can learn from that
Orient-barring we are too proud
how to make money ("red")
and how to "purse" it.
In England, (yes.I'm an American)
"Charities" of all sorts
and kinds as you may know are
started often, with some little bequest
that is accruing interest, and
grows in time to be a mighty institution
for good. But, those who
ovcrlookl like things are, let me
tell you, adepts in finance and
while there is no lack of the essentials,
not a penny goes to waste,
or to the "waste," or to any waist
It is plain, sweet, simple, wholesome
living that the native child
needs today; and sandwiched in
between, certainly, music and flowers
and pictures, yes and rich poet-try!
Shall he have all? And shall
his life be made a poem and not a
harsh, painful discord? Let us
"look alive," Captain.
MILTON'S LAST POEM.
I am old and blind!
Men point at me as smitten by
Afflicted, and deserted by my mind ;
Yet I am not cast down.
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