Mataafa. He is a beautiful, sweet old fellow, and he and I
grew quite fulsome on Saturday night about our sentiments. I
had a messenger from him to-day with a flannel undershirt
which I had left behind like a gibbering idiot; and
perpetrated in reply another baboo letter. It rains again
to-day without mercy; blessed, welcome rains, making up for
the paucity of the late wet season; and when the showers
slacken, I can hear my stream roaring in the hollow, and tell
myself that the cacaos are drinking deep. I am desperately
hunted to finish my Samoa book before the mail goes; this
last chapter is equally delicate and necessary. The prayers
of the congregation are requested. Eheu! and it will be
ended before this letter leaves and printed in the States ere
you can read this scribble. The first dinner gong has
sounded; JE VOUS SALUE, MONSIEUR ET CHER CONFRERE. TOFA,
SOIFUA! Sleep! long life! as our Samoan salutation of
farewell runs.


FRIDAY, MAY 13TH.


Well, the last chapter, by far the most difficult and
ungrateful, is well under way, I have been from six to seven
hours upon it daily since I last wrote; and that is all I
have done forbye working at Samoan rather hard, and going
down on Wednesday evening to the club. I make some progress
now at the language; I am teaching Belle, which clears and
exercises myself. I am particularly taken with the FINESSE
of the pronouns. The pronouns are all dual and plural and