The Hawaiian star. [volume] (Honolulu [Oahu]) 1893-1912, 1908-03-17

Just before she left Honolulu Mrs.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox said that during
her first days here she had written
some things she was sorry for, about
island people, and she hoped that
when the mainland newspapers came
back with these things in them, they
would be taken as first impressions
which were later corrected. The
worst yet" is the following in the
Examiner of March 6:
1t was a Sunday morning. "The
Man" and l were sitting in an exquisite
little cottage-a make-believe house
in a tropical Hawaiian garden.
Wild birds, with strange wonderful
notes of joy in their voices, were sing
ing. GLORY to God in the Highest"
Palm trees were waving graceful
arms, as if in religious ecstacy.
The month was February. The wea-
Their July. A handsome Hawaiian NAL
den walked by, dressed in her freshly
starched "holoku" and carrying her
tall body with native dignity. A tiny
Japanese girl trotted near, wearing her
kimono as only a native japanese wo-
man can wear it.
A Chinese mother paused in front OF
our cottage to strap the crimson silk
blanket more snugly about the baby
on her back. She wore peacock blue
coat, and a queer gold pin fastened her
black hair.
| Everything was picturesque, artistic
and fascinating to the eye and ear.
Life was full of color, light, romance
beauty. God seemed near-and the
world was good.
Then suddenly a sound! The birds
songs, the rustic of palm leaves, the
breathings of Nature, were drowned
under mOurnful wall.
A chorus of voices, accompanied by a
melancholy organ, sent forth the dis
NAL New England hymns, from the
Christian Mission church across the
way from our little bungalow. Verse
after verse, hymn after humn, bruised
the bright air into dark dependency.
Joy changed to melancholy; happiness
in the present gave way to sad mem
cries! Several services in the country
church of my childhood rose before
me; | heard the drone of the clergy
mans voice, the sob of the mourners;
and all the joy of life was lost, and
God was far away.
THE Man" looked at me with grave
eyes.
1T is awful, isn't it?" he said. Il am
back in a New England town-an
orphan boy-living next door to the
church with my grand mother. 1t is
a cold, rainy Winter day, but live 81
near | cannot escape the long service,
and the fear inspiring sermon. If l
play sick and stay at home | still hear
the mournful hymns, and threats OF
death and the grave and hell fire which
awaits boys who play sick. What a
pity our Christian ancestors adopted
such music and such hymns to re-
present the love-one-another creed OF
Christi"
81 wish we were in Hawaiian jun
GLE" l said, "alone with Nature, and
Natures God" so do J." said THE
Man"
Then we heard the congregation
leaving the church and knew the SER
vice was over. am sure the prayer
of gratitude from our hearts was as
sincere as any prayer that went up to
heaven that morning.
For we could worship again through
the happy sounds of singing birds and
rustling leaves. A little later a band
of Hawaiian singers broke forth in
song There was the JOY of life, the
ring of youth, the throb of hope, the
thrill of passion in their voices. The
echoes took up the strain and repeated
1.-THE world seemed brighter, and life
more vital as they sang. The SUI
was in their song; and there was the
scent of flowers, and the JOY of Nature
in the strain.
81 would rather be welcomed in hea
ven by music like that l said, thar
by those orthodox hymns"
And THE Man" nodded approval
"Give me any kind of heaven-or NJ
heaven at all, he said, rather than &
place that reminds me of my boyhoot
Sundays"