suffered utter dismay, because Tahitians know no servitude and pay
no attention to sharp words.

I saw a red-faced woman giving an order for apéritifs to To Sen,
the Chinese waiter.

"Two old-fashioned gin cocktails," she iterated. "You savee, gin
and bitters? Be sure it's Angostura, and lemon and soda, and two
Manhattans with rye whisky. Hurry along now! Old-fashioned, remember!"

In ten minutes Temanu came for the order. To Sen knew no English,
and Temanu only, "Yais, ma darleeng," and "Whatnahell?"

"Spik Furanche?" she begged.

"Oui, oui!" said the red-faced lady. "Dooze cocktail! Vous savez
cocktail, à la mode des ancients? Gin, oon dash bittair, lem' et soda!"

"Mais, madame, douze cocktail!" and the half-caste Chinese girl
held up all her fingers and added two more. "Vous n'êtes que quatre
ici! Quatre cocktails, n'est-ce pas?"

"Dooze gin, dooze Manhattan? My heavens! They ought to
understand my French in this out-of-the-way place when they do in
Paris. Listen! Dooze is two in French," and she held up two pudgy
fingers. But Temanu was gone and returned with four cocktails made
after her own liking.

All the girls, Atupu, Iromea, Pepe, Maru, Tetua, and Mme. Rose
and Mama-Maru, helped in the service, some beginning with shoes and