OF THE SOUTH SEAS 263 



phy was fatal to his enjoyment. He saw the flaw in the 

 diamond the sunbeam made of the drop of water on the 

 leaf. He had lived too long and was too wise in disap- 

 pointments. He was generous in his poverty, for he 

 brought me a tin of guava- jelly he had made and a box 

 of dried bananas. These had had their skins removed, 

 and were black and not desirable-looking, but they were 

 delicious and rare. In turn, not wishing to exaggerate 

 the difference between our means, I gave him a box of 

 cigars I had brought from America. I visited him at 

 Fa'a, and found his coop had been a poultry shelter, 

 and was humble, indeed; but I had slept a hundred 

 nights in many countries in worse. He had a box for a 

 table for eating and writing, and a rude cot. A few 

 dishes and implements, and a roost of books and reviews 

 in Russian, English, French, German, and other lan- 

 guages, completed his equipment. 



He had several times reiterated his earnest wish to 

 leave Tahiti, and his longing rested heavily on my heart. 

 Upon lying down at night I had felt my own illiberality 

 in not making it possible for him to realize his desire. 

 A hundred dollars would send him there, with enough 

 left over for a fortnight's keep. But my apology for 

 not buying him a ticket was the real fear of his unhappi- 

 ness. What could a friendless man of eighty do to exist 

 in the United States other than become the inmate of a 

 poorhouse? The best he could hope for would be to be 

 taken in by the Little Sisters of the Poor, who house a 

 few old men. They were, doubtless, kind, but probably 

 insistent on neatness and religiosity. 



The cold, the brutal policemen and guards, the venial 

 justice, the crystallized charity in the name of a statis- 



