814 MYSTIC ISLES 



beat and hummed the airs to guide the others. A tune 

 ended, the bandsmen hurried to mix with the audience, 

 to smoke and flirt. The shading acacia-trees lining the 

 avenues permitted privacy for embraces, kisses, for 

 making engagements, and for the singing of chansons 

 and himenes of scandalous import. Better than the 

 Latin, the Tahitian likes direct words and candor in 

 song. 



French naval officers and sailors passed and repassed, 

 or sought the obscurity of the mangoes or the acacias. 

 One heard the sibilance of kisses, the laughter, and the 

 banter, the half-serious blows and scoldings of the 

 'oahines who repelled over-bold sailors. In an hour the 

 sedate and the older took leave; the governor and the 

 procureur turned into the Cercle Militaire for whist or 

 ecarte and a glass of wine, the carriages withdrew, and 

 the band's airs and manner of playing took on a new 

 freedom and abandon. A polka was begun, and cou- 

 ples danced upon the grass, the ladies in their peignoirs, 

 their black hair floating, and their lips chanting, their 

 wreaths and flowers nodding to their motions. 



In retired nooks where the lamp-lights did not pene- 

 trate ardent ones threw themselves into the postures 

 and agitations of the upaupa, the hula. 



Boys now began to light the flambeaux for the re- 

 traite. These were large bundles of cocoanut-husks 

 and candlenuts soaked in oil, and they gave a generous 

 flare. Suddenly, we heard the mairie-bell tolling. 

 The band-leader climbed upon the roof of the kiosk, 

 descended, and gave a vigorous beat upon the air for 

 "the Marseillaise," which ends all concerts. 



It was quickly over, and seizing the flambeaux, all 



