The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1885-1921, 1908-11-15

pOrters' room of the Honolulu Advel
tiser. The screen door, outside whic
the night mosquitoes hummed, slamme
on the flying tail of his linen jacket
and the librarian came forth from hi
dusty den to see what stirred. Hi
voice-he was incredibly oId-met tn
Oldest Journalist as he crossed tn
eramped room to his desk. ''Has tn
Mauna Loa got inf'
The newcomer nodded his head, tuck
ed his rescued eoat-tail into his breeche
pocket, scowled at the electric light, anC
addressed the librarian. eyes, Beastiy
trip. Have you got a cut of old SimP
kins in that graveyard of yoursi'
-''Simpkinsf Simpkinsf'' repeated the
the keeper of our Colonial exchanges
London Times, and copper ''cutsf OF
the famous and infamous. "You mean
Simpkins of Lanaif''
al do not" replied the Oldest
Journalist, throwing rattle of papers
to the floor and squaring his elbows to
write. at mean Phineas Simpkins.
1t was truthfully said that our librar-
ian, whose life was tissue of memories
of the tropics, could, if given time,
remember anything about any person
who ever impinged on the sphere that
contains the three social circles of the
Missionary, the Trader, and the Native.
So now he paused, his hand on the
screen door that separated his closet
from ours. His dim eyes sought the
skylight, through whose wired squares
the stars peered in. "Simpkins, Simp-
kins,'' he whispered gently.
God knows the name is nothing to
eonjure up thoughts; and yet, as that
unbelievably old gentleman stood there
murmuring that pair of ridiculous syl-
tables, his face marked the course of
the backward tide of remembrance. l.
dare say he saw odd figures of whalers-
men, gaunt missionaries, sallow traders,
pompOus attaches to forgotten ENJOYS
from big powers to petty princes-a, long
procession of Simpkinses; at any rate
NE stood there full five minutes, while
the Oldest Journalist growled over his
pencil and vceiferated about the drying
up of his paste-pot. Suddenly the
librarian gave vent to queer sOund.
Lit was half chuekle of glee at finding
what he sought, half grunt of increduli-
ty. "There' 5 only one Simpkins on the
Islands now," he said, tapping his nose
with his eyeglasses. cha, hal"
The Chinese copyholder, awaiting q
correction on some proof, reminded US
of his presence by a feeble, tittering
''Hee, Hee!" a shrill echo of the librar
ian = laugh. At its sound the Oldest
Journalist suddenly flung himself upon
a Marine Register, hurled it at the
Ghinaman, picked up his empty paste,
pot, and slammed it on his table, bel.
lowing: ''Simpkinsl Simpkins of
Molokai"
The eopyholder fed. The librarian
enuekled again and withdrew to gaze
through his screen door at the Oldest
Journalist. "My dear fellow he
said calmly, 'of course / haven't got
any cut of Simpkins of Molokai
have the pictures of many villains and
come fools in here, but this paper is
not spending money in buying copper
half tones of buffoons.
"Buffoonl' Numbered the other to
cur intense amazement. ''Why, you
senile old serapbook maker, how dare
youR' And the Oldest Journalist flung
out of the office. He did not return for
fifteen minutes, and we heard the librar-
ian pcttering over his files, muttering
continually and. scornfully, "Simpkins
Of Molokaii'
The next quarter of an hour saw the
staff vanish, except myself, who had to
see the paper to press after deciphering
and expanding the eablegram from San
Francisco. 1t was very warm, and the
mosquitoes hummed under the lights,
while I sought refuge in tobacco The
Oldest Journalist came back quietly and
resumed his pencil. The librarian slip
ned out of his sanetum, looked at the
Oldest Journalist (they were thirty-year
friendS) with glance of mild pity, and
vanished as the extremely old and
emaciated do. with a delicate and
paperish sound. The ''late watch
had begun.
l picked up the last number of the
Shanghai Bund TO read of the doings
of a Council in which l had no possible
interest and puzzle at the initials of
seandalous personages of whom / had
never heard. The Oldest Journalist 5 !
pencil Scraped ON. The Chinese copy
holder emerged from time TO time and |
inquired in his shrill English as to the |
spelling of ponderous words in the cold /
man : - leader: the foreman came in to |
INQUIRE about the .'cable.'' and it's !
probable latenesS, and to mathematics. |
as he had done nightly since we had /
been united TO the Coast by a !
''wire,' the slowness. ignorance. and |
presumable inebriety of the man in San |
Francisco whose duty il was to sum- !
marIze the diary of the world in seven. !
ty-fve words. The proofreader, gen /
TEST of souls. whose wife in Denver was /
his sole thought-apart from the mos |
quitOes-dropped in to inquire when the I
next steamer with mail from the States /
might reasonably be expected. The tele. |
phone rang to announce that n Japan l
csc on trial for his life at Hilo had been |
acquitted per wireless. Still the Coolest |
Journalist wrote on.
HYou a better rush if YOU re going |
~ cat vnur last car for Kaiu,pL5 7 \