FEB. 1892.


MY DEAR COLVIN, - This has been a busyish month for a sick
man. First, Faauma - the bronze candlestick, whom otherwise
I called my butler - bolted from the bed and bosom of
Lafaele, the Archangel Hercules, prefect of the cattle.
There was the deuce to pay, and Hercules was inconsolable,
and immediately started out after a new wife, and has had one
up on a visit, but says she has 'no conversation'; and I
think he will take back the erring and possibly repentant
candlestick; whom we all devoutly prefer, as she is not only
highly decorative, but good-natured, and if she does little
work makes no rows. I tell this lightly, but it really was a
heavy business; many were accused of complicity, and Rafael
was really very sorry. I had to hold beds of justice -
literally - seated in my bed and surrounded by lying Samoans
seated on the floor; and there were many picturesque and
still inexplicable passages. It is hard to reach the truth
in these islands.

The next incident overlapped with this. S. and Fanny found
three strange horses in the paddock: for long now the boys
have been forbidden to leave their horses here one hour
because our grass is over-grazed. S. came up with the news,
and I saw I must now strike a blow. 'To the pound with the
lot,' said I. He proposed taking the three himself, but I
thought that too dangerous an experiment, said I should go
too, and hurried into my boots so as to show decision taken,