The morning call., 1894-04-10
AN AUTHORS QUIET RETREAT.

bamboo caves appear above the tops of
the trees. A white semi-circular beach
below Tapped by tiny waves, the disturbed
undulations of an otherwise placid strip OF
water that lies between an outlying reef
and the shore, and beyond the reef cloud
less sky, blue as the ocean that it meets
upon the horizon, wherein circle sea birds
whose piercing cries are the only sounds
that disturb the peaceful repose that
reigns over the spot.
To the southwark town. A cluster OF
brown huts thatched with dry banana
leaves. Then a larger series of edifices
divided by a broad avenue leading down to
the waters edge, where few lazy canoe
lists lie prone upon the sands and score
or more of frail wooden fabrics float
sleepily on the bosom of the ocean.
This is the home of Robert Louis Ste
yenson. This Is Apia.
In the home on the hill is pleasant
looking man, who looks little worn to be
sure. but he has not lost the vigor of his
twinkling eve nor the hearty grasp OF
friendly hand.
No shadow of the Old World crosses the
threshold of the great novellsrs home.
Nothing but the sunshine Of the new
can trespass there. Nor can it be termed
LT6SQaSS6T 6ltu6Ts 1UI III ofOt9 tiUPiOoi 10y
that dances through the slevellke leaves OF
the palms is a study of life and nature TO
the industrious author who lives within
the bamboo cottage.
Leading from the balcony is q door, a
broad double door that opens from the
center and extends like pair OF welco M
ing arms that desire to clasp you within
the welcoming shelter.
Within the doorway is room and on
table rest a nun Der OF volumes of present
and forgotten lore. papers, periodicals aud
manuscript papers.
Stevenson has given himself up to bust
ness and TO studying human nature among
the islanders. He intends investing great
fortune in planting cocoanutS so that he
may be assured of an income while he de-
votes his life to obtaining knowledge of
the simple people among whom he has
chosen to abide.
II. J. Moore and the gentlemen on
board of the schooner Vine courteouSly
made known many facts concerning Stew
enson's life in the South Seas, but persons
personally acquainted with the author
WHO reside at Honolulu collected many
pretty little stories about him and for
warded them to this city by the steamer
Australia.
The originator of "Dr. Jekyll and Mr..
HYDE" spends good deal of his time max
ing study OF subjects for series OF SYM
dictate letters which he is writing con-
stantly, and for the creation of characters
for his new works
Stevenson's delineation of the typical
South Sea island trader and the unsuspect-
ing, simple native. whom he has portrayed
so perfectly in his short stories. Is mostly
inspired by natural gift for reading
character and an aptness to see in an indi-
ydua being the traits necessary to form
n0vellstic heroes or villains.
One time thAra lived atm of the SamOan
group a trader named Phillips. he came
mySteri0usly just drifting in upon the
community like a strange variety of sea-
weed that desired to find some convenient
rock on which to cling.
Phillips was a daredevil sort of fell
low, full of indifference and inclined to be
somewhat -urly.
He didn't make many friends. nor did
he seem to care to make any.
There was a certain amount of gen.
crosby about him though that Offset his
taciturnity and bore evidence Of really
kind heart hidden beneath bis rough
traders coat.
Phillips spoke the Kings English much
after the fashion Of a gruff sea dog, with
little care TO the selection of a choice
vocabulary and with an overindulgence in
adjective.
lie did marry a native girl: married her
III such an offhand devil-me-care sort of
way that few persons among the white
men at the ISLANDS had some misgivings as
to his ultimate intentions of sticking to his
matrimonial vows. But a bona-fide cere-
monlal really was performed by travel
ing deacon of modest men and Of ambi-
tious religious intentions, who united
Phillips TO Yomou. Samoan belle.
Queer TO relate, Phillips never went
back on" the gil. She chung to him and
he protected her. He would just as soon
have sacrificed his lie for her as he vcald
have sold a MT W worthless string Of
beads for hundred weight of copra
He did not outlive his bride. but died
with his boots on in a hand TO hand en-
counter with several natives and rival
traders in one of the southern isles.
His life formed the basis for good
character sketch, and Stevenson was not
slow to note it.
The novelist couldn't rob his narrative
of its genial glow of interest in its climax.
by having the hero die violent death. so
he drew on his imagination for conclu-
sion, with the result that the trader i'm
"I'he Beach at Falesa" was represented as
having lived to continue to love the little
native woman whom he had at first mar
ried in Jest, then legimately because of her
simple ways and of the look in her dark
brown eyes that he, gruff aDd hardened as
he was. could not resist.
Stevenson has had his eye on an cratic
TtImdu VI idtc, duU IL 10 Sdlu IUdL LQdt n
dividuai will be conspicuous in one of the
novelist's new books.
The fellow referred to has been travelling
about the islands acting in the double ca
pacity of trader and missionary, claiming
a fOndness for the natives that is really pa.
thetic to witness. Still there is a love for
the gold that copra brings that gives a
rough edge TO his usually smooth palaver
that makes him both feared and despised.
The subject" is said to have bride in
seven different Islands. and there is some
serious talk among even the beach CO 10 bers
of exiting him for bigamy. One man is en-
titled to numerous wives in Samoa but
somehow when a white man oversteps the
limit he loses the respect of the commu-
nifty.
The motive that inspired Stevenson
with the idea of 1.-THE Bottle Imp" is still
said to be abnut Makiu. The chap never
had hundred dollars to his na.le. how
ever, and it was only story that he used
TO tell about the 'heantifnl house." con-
Meeting his great-greai-erandfath with
the establishment. that led The writer Ito
formulating a talk about the queer little
bottle and how the native boy who visited
San Francisco got it from the rich man on
the bill.
There Will Be Cans Enough.