forms had been begun, outlining a scheme of decoration in contrast
with the austere mountains and valleys. But everywhere these had been
abandoned. Either the appropriation had given out, or the polyps had
gotten to squabbling among themselves and left their work to be slowly
worn away by the erosive action of sea and shipwrecked bottoms.
[Footnote: In Micronesia it was even worse, the islands offering a
dead-level of mediocrity which I have never seen equalled except in
the workingmen's cottages of Ampere, New Jersey, the home of the General
Electric Company.] Add to the geographic sameness the universal blight
of white civilization with its picture post-cards, professional hula
and ooh-la dancers, souvenir and gift shops, automat restaurants,
movie-palaces, tourists, artists and explorers, and you have some idea
of the boredom which had settled down over the Kawa and her
inmates.

Only a few days before Whinney, usually so philosophical, had burst
out petulantly with: "To hell with these islands. Give me a good mirage,
any time." Swank and I had heartily agreed with him, and it was in
that despondent spirit that we had begun our Fourth of July celebration.

As we sat cozily on deck, sipping our coffee, it slowly dawned on us
that we had made the amazing discovery of an absolutely new type of
island!--something so evidently virgin and unvisited that we could
only gaze in awe-struck silence.

"Do you know," whispered Swank, "I think this is the first time I have
ever seen a virgin"--he choked for an instant on a crumb--"island."

We could well believe it.