114 MYSTIC ISLES 



graphophone ground out the music for dancing. Rag- 

 time records brought out the Otoman, a San Franciscan, 

 bald and coatless. He took the floor with Mathilde, a 

 chic, petite, and graceful half-caste, and they danced the 

 maxixe. David glided with Margaret, Landers led out 

 Lucy, and soon the room was filled with whirling couples. 

 A score looked on and sipped champagne, the serving 

 girls trying to fill the orders and lose no moment from 

 flirtation. On the camphor-wood chest four were seated 

 in two's space. 



When midnight tolled from the cathedral tower, there 

 was an uncalled-for speech from a venerable traveler 

 who apparently was not sure of the date or the exact 

 nature of the fete: 



"Fellow-exiles and natives bujus Teetee. We are 

 gathered together this Fourth of July — " 



Cries of "Aita!" "Ce nest-pas vraiT "Shove in 

 your high! It 's New Year!" 



" — to cel'brate the annivers'ry of the death of that 

 great man — " 



Yells of "Sit down!" "Olalala!" "Aita maitair and 

 the venerable orator took his seat. He was once a gov- 

 ernor of a territory under President Harrison, and now 

 lived off his pension, shaky, sans teeth, sans hair, but 

 never sa7is speech. 



The Englishmen and Americans clattered glasses and 

 said "Happy New Year!" and the Tahitians: "Rupe- 

 rupe tatou iti! I teienei matahiti apil" "Hurrah for 

 all of us! Good cheer for the New Year!" 



Monsieur Lontane, second in command of the police, 

 arrived just in time to drink the bonne annee. He exe- 

 cuted a pas seul. He mimicked a great one of France. 



