The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1885-1921, 1908-05-24

EInS. HOPKINS was q WeIt-euuCaEti
chap. fond of what he termed life. and
1T appeared. an artist. He explained
| his presence in the Army of Uncl'
Sam by stating that 1t afforded hin
an unequaled opportunity for the stud,
of local color: that was his phrase
Local Color. When he could get leave
he used 10 come down on the car an'
preach to me the gospel of Loca
Color. While not a critic, / venture
TO say that Hopkins was really, in hi
way. an artist. BY Jove!" he woulC
tell me when I failed to catch tbs
exact trend of his argument, Il wish
Z could paint it for you. / can't now
but some day I can. The principle il
correct, anyway"
1 was going out TO Kapiolani Park
one morning to see Hopkins. I got of
the car at the Aquarium, and walked
on till 1 found myself turning uI
Queens Road. Hopkins, who should
have met me anywhere within half a
mile, hadn't come in sight yet. l sat
down to smoke a pipe.
Before l had got we'll settled. l heard
a rustling in the bushes behind me-a
very subdued, stealthy noise. / twisted
my head round and peered in. There
was a little pool just inside the thicket.
And bending over this pool, apparently
looking at her reflection in it, was a
girl | saw only the profile. but she
seemed to me to be very young.
| watched her a moment, and she did
not stir. Suddenly, with a light and
iagile movement, she threw back her
! head. unclasped her cotton gown at
! the neck, and then-a slim, brown arm
dropped slowly to the mirror of water,
pierced it with slender fingers till the
bare brown shoulder was Tapped by the
ripples. 1t was a pretty posture. Her
cheek, close to the surface. was slight
ly turned to it and her breath clouded
! the water. I could have sworn she was
listening for some murmur from the
| depths. Before, in modesty, l could go
quietly away, she Strengthened up on
| her knees. Her glistening arm rose,
and she put her hand to her knotted
! hair with a gesture most familiar. 1
! saw Hopkins walking up the road, and
FASTENED to meet him. l turned him
| back, and he talked Art to me for two
j hours.
/ That evening I went up Palolo VAL
ley. 1t was moonlight. The water in
the bitches shone like ribbons through
the little fields; the still pools were
filled with stars. From the mountain
the scent of male poured down, de-
llightful cascade of perfume. As made
one circle after another up the path,
came upon the small huts of the
cultivators of this dale: a lamp glowing
in a doorway, the twang of guitar
played in the dusk under the lanai.
subdued voices singing through the
night. And at last | came upon the
hut I was looking for. It was set
upon the hillside. along a rivulet that
dubbed down into the warm marsh to
spread in placid pools among the taro.
There was no light in the doorway, no
strum of music nor ripping human
voices. I STOPPED.
A woman rose from the low step,
drawing her holoku about her throat
Her pale. emaciated face turned TO
mine in the moonlight. Perceiving me,
she drew back slightly, saying, Good
evening
81 came to see you I said, because
I saw your child
She sat down again: her hand stray
ed to her hair. "Ethel?" she said,
quietly.
Ethel" I repeated. Z see you gave
her your own name"
'She was a girl. Her father didn't
care what l called her" she assented.
''She is growing up I went on, hard
" knowing my errand. II saw her"
The woman's face darkened strange
ly Il pray every night that nobody
will see her. she whispered 1t was
an appalling whisper, a sibilant curse
upon destiny I think I understood
her thought, her terror of the impos-
sible future.
''She is quite beautiful" I admitted.
'tHapa -haole, hapa -pake-half- white,
half-Chinese. she cried, bitterly.
I was of a mind to go away. She had
said all that there was to say. But [
saw again the delicate posture of the
girl by the pool. 1 am an old man.
I remembered Sister Harris, the new
missionary. Possibly I was wrong.
But [ said: "And you are her mother"
She stumbled down the step to lay
her meager handAon my knee. 81 know
1T, I know it, she whispered
1t doesn't matter what else she pour
ed out in that hour She had suffe. ed,
you understand, as it is given those to
suffer who see their romance blacken
before their eyes. She had paid for her
mistake twenty-fold. IF she had sat
childless on that hillside among the
taro and the little waterways, she
might have dreamed. But there was
the child
Il have prayed" she concluded. II
have prayed to God. I have tried to
do my part. But she is a
woman now. - She
looked al me with her pale eyes, in
profound silence. Il was a woman
she said. clearly.
Romantic dreams. We all dream, a
little. And this was the end of her
dream-as she sat years ago in that
dingy chapel in Middle Western state
while a song throbbed up from the
congregation
I went down the valley, having ac-
compIished nothing.
Private Hopkins continued his lee
lures of Art and Local Color in the
interim of guard duty and skirmish
drill One day he burst upon me with
a new idea This is the real thing
he said. gleefully. Remember that
sketch Of Jap wedding on the sam
pan I did for the News? Wasn't that
a good idea? Didn't work it out quite
the right way But now I've got a no.