Occasionally we sailed in the Kawa, at which times the intrepid
Triplett accompanied us. Remembering those happy times I now realize
that his presence cast the only shadow across the bright sunlight of
our days. Why this was I could not have said,--indeed I should have
probably denied that it was so, yet the fact remains that on some of
our excursions to neighboring islands, when, having pulled back the
terrestrial cork of the atoll, we had eased our tight little craft
into the outer waters, I experienced a distinct dorsal chill.

Both Kippiputuonaa and Lupoba-Tilaana felt this to a marked degree,
but most of all was it apparent in its affect on Mrs. Whinney whose
maiden name, Babai-Alova-babai (Triple extract of Alova), only faintly
describes the intoxicating fragrance of her beauty.

"Tiplette, naue aata b'nau boti!" she used to cry. "Do not let Triplett
go in the boat."

The old man was insistent. He had worked William Henry Thomas to
exhaustion rerigging the craft and then thrust him out, bag and baggage.
But I must admit that between them they had done a good job. William
Henry and his bride took up lodgings in a tall tree near the lagoon
whence they used mournfully to regard the floating home in which they
had spent their unhallowed honeymoon. When we actually began to sail
her the William Henry Thomases disappeared from view as if the sight
were too much for them, and we seldom saw them thereafter.

Triplett's ingenuity was responsible for the bamboo mast, woven
_paa-paa_ sail and the new yard-arm, which, in the absence of a
universal joint was cleverly fashioned of braided _eva-eva_.