I've seen in the 'ole blooming run.'

"'Eathen?' sez 'Oward. 'Me a 'eathen! I was born in Iowa, and I'm a
blooming good American.'"

"'What, you an American citizen?' sez the captain. 'Born in my own
state, and painted up like Sitting Bull on the warpath? Get off this
ship,' sez 'e, wild, 'get off this ship, or I'll put you in irons
and take you back to the blooming jail you escaped from!'

"'Oward leaped over the side and swum ashore."

An avenue ran the length of the beach, shaded by trees, and crossing
a gentle stream. Along this avenue was all the life and commerce of
Tai-o-hae. Two traders' shops, empty offices, a gendarme, a handful
of motley half-castes lounging under the trees--this was all that
was left of former greatness. Only nature had not changed. It flung
over the broken remnants of the glory and the dream its lovely cloak
of verdure and of flower. Man had almost ceased to be a figure in the
scene he had dominated for untold centuries.

Crossing the stepping-stones of the brook we met a darkish, stout
man in overalls.

"Good morn'," he said pleasantly. I looked at him and guessed his
name at once.

"Good-morning," I answered. "You are the son of T'yonny."

"My father, Mist' Howard, dead," he said. "You _Menike_ like him?"