were chatting with Captain Triplett. Whinney was repeating parts of
his talk and I noticed that Triplett's attention was wandering. His
eye was firmly fixed on the flower in Kippy's hair. That called my
attention to it and I saw that whenever my wife turned her head the
blossom of the flower slowly turned in the opposite direction.

Suddenly Triplett interrupted Whinney to say in a rather shaky voice,
"Mrs. Traprock, if you please, would you mind facin' a-stern."

I motioned to Kippy to obey, which she would have done anyway.

"An' now," said the Captain, "kindly face forrard."

Same business.

The flower slowly turned on Kippy's head!

Stretching forth a trembling hand, Triplett plucked the blossom from
Kippy's hair!

You can only imagine the commotion which ensued when I tell you that,
in the Filberts, for a man to pluck a flower from a woman's hair means
only one thing. Poor Kippy was torn between love of me and what she
thought was duty to my chief. I had a most difficult time explaining
to her that Triplett meant absolutely nothing by his action, a statement
which he corroborated by all sorts of absurd "I don't care,"
gestures--but he clung to the flower.

An hour later when we had escorted the ladies safely to their compound,
I paddled back to the yawl. Peering through the port-hole I could see