home. Yet, strange to relate, all this was deemed the evidence of
the power of the Most High; and, as such, was heralded abroad.
    But, to return to the Church of the Cocoa-nuts. The blessing pronounced, the
congregation disperse; enlivening the Broom Road with their waving mantles. On
either hand, they disappear down the shaded pathways, which lead off from the
main route, conducting to hamlets in the groves, or to the little marine villas
upon the beach. There is considerable hilarity; and you would suppose them just
from an old-fashioned hevar, or jolly heathen dance. Those who carry Bibles
swing them carelessly from their arms, by cords of sinnate.
    The Sabbath is no ordinary day with the Tahitians. So far as doing any work
is concerned, it is scrupulously observed. The canoes are hauled up on the
beach; the nets are spread to dry. Passing by the hen-coop huts, on the
roadside, you find their occupants idle, as usual; but less disposed to gossip.
After service, repose broods over the whole island; the valleys reaching inland
look stiller than ever.
    In short, it is Sunday - their Taboo Day; the very word formerly expressing
the sacredness of their pagan observances, now proclaiming the sanctity of the
Christian Sabbath.
 

                                  Chapter XLVI

                        Something about the Kannakippers

A worthy young man, formerly a friend of mine (I speak of Kooloo with all
possible courtesy, since after our intimacy there would be an impropriety in
doing otherwise) - this worthy youth, having some genteel notions of retirement,
dwelt in a maroo boro, or bread-fruit shade, a pretty nook in a wood, midway
between the Calabooza Beretanee and the Church of Cocoa-nuts. Hence, at the
latter place, he was one of the most regular worshippers.
    Kooloo was a blade. Standing up in the congregation in all the bravery of a
striped calico shirt, with the skirts rakishly adjusted over a pair of white
sailor trowsers, and hair well anointed with cocoa-nut oil, he ogled the ladies
with an air of supreme satisfaction. Nor were his glances unreturned.
    But such looks as the Tahitian belles cast at each other: frequently turning
up their noses at the advent of a new cotton mantle recently imported in the
chest of some amorous sailor. Upon one occasion, I observed a group of young
girls, in tunica of coarse, soiled sheeting, disdainfully pointing at a damsel
in a flaming red one. »Oee tootai owree!« said they with ineffable scorn, »itai
maitai!« (you are a