OCTOBER 13TH.


How am I to describe my life these last few days? I have
been wholly swallowed up in politics, a wretched business,
with fine elements of farce in it too, which repay a man in
passing, involving many dark and many moonlight rides, secret
counsels which are at once divulged, sealed letters which are
read aloud in confidence to the neighbours, and a mass of
fudge and fun, which would have driven me crazy ten years
ago, and now makes me smile.

On Friday, Henry came and told us he must leave and go to 'my
poor old family in Savaii'; why? I do not quite know - but,
I suspect, to be tattooed - if so, then probably to be
married, and we shall see him no more. I told him he must do
what he thought his duty; we had him to lunch, drank his
health, and he and I rode down about twelve. When I got
down, I sent my horse back to help bring down the family
later. My own afternoon was cut out for me; my last draft
for the President had been objected to by some of the
signatories. I stood out, and one of our small number
accordingly refused to sign. Him I had to go and persuade,
which went off very well after the first hottish moments; you
have no idea how stolid my temper is now. By about five the
thing was done; and we sat down to dinner at the Chinaman's -
the Verrey or Doyen's of Apia - G. and I at each end as
hosts; G.'s wife - Fanua, late maid of the village; her