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You are a stupid. Well, to resume :
this "community" with which I There is the twitter of birds in my ear every minute as I write, and some of them feeding at my feet. The air is balmy and soothing and the earth is satisfied with the cool drink of yesterday. We arc most thankful, like Mother Earth, to have done, for another six months, with the brassy glare and heat of this tiresome, wearisome beach ! Let those have it who like it not I. We are of those who would dare to die tor Truth's sake. That "new road'' from Wailupe to Niu is pan, and looks like good work. We are now cut off the road, and our nearest neighbor, when resident for a brief time, one-eighth of a mile distant and inaccessible when, as now, the road is deep with mud. Our next neighbor is Niu, one long mile off. We shall not plead guilty of gossiping too much. Two line horses feeding in front of me. all the day, have twice washed one another's faces, vigorously neck and face for ten minutes. An old man, a laborer, who owned a mule but never groomed it, complained to a gentleman of stiffness of the joints. The man told him that if he would groom his mule every night for one hour, rubbing him down well, at the stream, it would cure him, likely; and the mule would lie able to carry more grain into the bargain. He was enough wise to take the hint and groomed both himself and his mule. I grew to have great admiration of a poor heathen Japanese fisherman. Rough, ignorant and untutored as he was, coming in from a tough day's work that young man would make his fire outside, cook his meagre meal of rice and fish, and only a drink of water, and then day after day groom his horse, with as much care, as one would a royal steed. He would wash it, and rub it and smooth it down, comb it, and polish its hoofs ; and that horse would THE HONOLULU TIMES. low him like a dog, and come at his call ! A lady born and bred in Eng land, but who had been in the Island for a number of years, went home for good. She told us, the other day, that when she again sighted Honolulu she cried for joy; and she added in, what we should term, rather a come-on-now-and-fight tone: "Not they won't get us out of here again in a hurry." But we said, soothingly, I wouldn't fret about that. Of course, they (Steamship Co.) won't. November 7. It seems almost too good to be true doesn't it? First the Senate Commission and now the Prince! Surely the tide is turning in our favor and the country will rise quickly, like a young politician ! We shall have work for the working-man and eight hours at it, at a time. We shall have our Chinese, our money, for improvements needed ; capitalists will come and Hawaii at last, will be on top. We said so. "Republican." S.C. SOME SERIOUS SATURDAY MUSINGS. November 8. Life is often very short-cut off without warning as we see. Which way are you travelling, my dear friend? There are really, but the two paths the path of the wicked and the path of the righteous. You must prove by vour daily life; yes every day, not Sundays only, which path you are walking. You cannot deceive yourself, your neighbor, or your Maker. "Righteousness" is simply a logical term and includes soundest reasoning within its borders. You prefer the things of the world. Very well. We must part company. The Preacher. "JAMIE." Jamie seemed impelled, constrained to go out to meet, in but a few minutes' rowing, his death by drowning. The mountains of water swept over him and he was gone, lie loved the sea and he died in it. No lad ever loved better to row and to fish to swim and to keep in the sea. He knew no fear for he had been used to it all of his short life, and he looked upon it as a friend and a friend he dearly loved. To him the roughness only suited his love of exertion and fun. He was all alive with action, he loved to work and to seek employment good-natured and happy. He was never more satisfied than when he had gone with willing feet to do a neighbor a kindness. Dear big-hearted, handsome Jamie, we miss indeed, his pleasant face and cheerv voice. BETHLEHEM. The poor little Christmas baby, With no cradle for its' own ; Not even a wicker basket Of rudest reeds is shown. All in a hard cold manger, In the cattle-shed He lay; But, Angels ministered to Him, And led Kings on their way. The shepherds heard the Angels' song, And saw them in the sky Then followed, wonder ingly, along, To find the Christ-child, nigh. O new-born Christmas baby, Thou gift to every child; Thv sacred heart can hold them ' all, So loving and so mild. The bells are rung in ev'ry clime, The Angels' song is sung; And that God came from Heaven to Earth, Is told in every tongue. Anne M. Prescott. November 4, 1902. (Republican and Righteousness.) There's the great man at the top of our Territory, Honev. Even so. The revolutionists are dying out ! t5 5 It has been a "stern chase," indeed. 5 i5 Labor is what we need. 0 v w If the Federal Government will' help us! W 5 t Hawaii is unique.