Stay, O stay, Moon with light unending,
Coral, Pearl and Moonlight, guard them from falling cocoanuts.

I should stand convicted of ingratitude if I did not here and now pay
tribute to the sound common-sense of Captain Triplett at whose
instigation we had embarked upon this our great adventure. As Triplett
had predicted, ere a few days had passed we found awakening within us
the fires of ambition which had sunk lower and lower in our breasts
during our two weeks of carousing. We were now responsible married
men. We wanted to do something to take our places in the community.

I began to scribble furtively on the back of an old manuscript--the
book of an operetta I had once written, a musical version of _Les
Miserables_ called "Jumping Jean," in reference to which one of the
New York producers, Dillingham, I think, wrote me: "You have out-Hugo-ed
Hugo; this is more miserable than _Les Miserables_ itself!" I noticed
also that Swank began to use his atelier jargon of "tonal values" and
"integrity of line," while Whinney showed up one morning in the village
circle with a splendid blossom of the bladder-campion (_Silene
latifolia_) pinned to the center of his helmet.

It was doubtless this renaissance of mental activity that reminded us
of the Kawa and of William Henry Thomas. Great heavens, what
would he think of us? Here nearly a month had elapsed, we were mostly
married and had never given him a thought. We were filled with
compunction. On top of this Triplett came to us with the announcement
that Baahaabaa had informed him that we might expect a big wind about
this time. Remembering what we had been through the Captain was worried
about our tight little craft.