the sleeping body of Long Charley therein, and, telling her to bathe
his head in the morning with cold water, we rose to go.

"Good-bye, Tirau!" we said.

"TIAKAPO [Good-night]", said the good Little Wife, as she rolled up an
empty square gin bottle in one of Charley's shirts for a pillow, and
disposed her graceful figure on the matted floor beside his bed, to fight
mosquitoes until daylight.




THE METHODICAL MR BURR OF MADURO



One day Ned Burr, a fellow trader, walked slowly up the path to my
station, and with a friendly nod sat down and watched intently as, with
native assistance, I set about salting some pork. Ned lived thirty
miles from my place, on a little island at the entrance to the lagoon.
He was a prosperous man, and only drank under the pressure of the
monotony caused by the non-arrival of a ship to buy his produce. He
would then close his store, and, aided by a number of friendly male
natives, start on a case of gin. But never a woman went into Ned's
house, though many visited the store, where Ned bought their produce,
paid for it in trade or cash, and sent them off, after treating them on
a strictly business basis.

Now, the Marshall Island women much resented this. Since Ned's wife had