molasses. Along the roads were Hawaiian huts with octopi drying on the
porches, beside the reclining figures of the strong providers of the
family, resting up, no doubt, from the task of catching and killing the
octopi by hitting the squid's heads.

Some of the party waxed eloquent about the wonderful leprosy cures,
recently accomplished in the Islands, through the discoveries of the
chemist Dr. Dean, who took the chalmoogra oil used in India over a
thousand years ago as a cure (but according to tradition, the sufferers
considered the cure worse than the disease) and made it possible to
take.

Some of us stopped to investigate the powerful wireless station with the
instruments capable of receiving messages at a distance of 5000 miles.
Still others told of the island at the Pearl Harbor Naval station being
purchased for ten thousand dollars and then being sold to our government
for 400,000 dollars.

Many had not only received the leis, but a new native name as well, for,
as you know, it is the Hawaiian way of labeling everyone with some name
that to the Islander expresses their predominant characteristic.

We were gazing at the magnificent sunset, when someone who seemed to
have inside information, repeated the old adage, "A red sky at night is
the sailor's delight, but if followed by a red sky in the morning, it's
the sailor's warning." We had all found the tranquil waters of the
Pacific so refreshing after the rush and excitement of Honolulu
sightseeing, and did not know that the worst storm the Empire State had
experienced was before us.