of government in these archipelagoes was bizarre comedy-drama, with
Tartarins at the front of the stage, and a cursing or slumbrous
audience.

Count Polonsky, a Russian-born Frenchman, appeared in court to answer
to the charge of letting his automobile engine run when no one was
in the car. He was fined a franc, which he would take from his pocket
then and there, but must wait many days to pay, until circumlocution
had its round, six weeks after the engine had been at fault. I was
assessed two sous duty on a tooth-brush. I reached for the coins.

"Mais, non" said the préposé de le douane, "pas maintenant. No
hurry. We will inform you by post."

These officials had pleasing manners, as do almost all Frenchmen,
and though they uttered many sacrés against the home Government
and that of these islands, they were fiercely chauvinistic toward
foreigners, as are all nationals abroad where jingoism partakes
of self-aggrandizement. The American consul, a new appointee,
addressed the customs clerk in his only tongue, Iowan, and received no
response. I spoke to him in French, and the préposé replied in mixed
French and English, out of compliment to me. The consul was enraged,
considering himself and the American eagle affronted. I interposed,
but the customs-man answered coldly in English:

"This is a French possession, and French is the language,
or Tahitian. I speak both. Why don't you? You are supposedly an
educated man."

The Stars and Stripes were unfolded in a breeze of hot words that