“In what language?” I demanded, interested.

“Huh?  That’s it.  If in French, only the French would read it; and if in Tahitian, the French won’t touch it; and English is known only by the Chinese and the few British and Americans here.  I hate that Tahitian.  I don’t know a word of it after seventeen years.  Say what you will, Roosevelt made them stand around.  I liked him for many things; but, after all, the old order must stand, and Root is the boy for me.  This fellow Wilson is a regular pedagogue.”

“But they have newspapers here?” I asked.

“Newspapers?  They call them that.”

He stood up and searched in the pockets of his voluminous coat, which he opened.  I saw that the lining was of silk, but now worn and torn.  He brought out a roll of papers.

“Here is ‘La Tribune de Tahiti,’” he said.  “It is edited by Jean Delpit, the lawyer whose offices are next to the Bellevue Restaurant.  It’s a monthly, published in San Francisco, and has a brief summary of world events, besides articles on the administrative affairs of Tahiti.  It’s against the Government.  Then there’s ‘Le Liberal,’ a socialist journal, with Eugene Brunschwig editor, which pours hot shot into the Government.  Look at his announcement!  Do you understand that?  He is fierce.  He is an anarchist and wants to be bought up.  Of course he is attacking from outside Tahiti.

“There is no newspaper printed here except the ‘Journal Officiel’ which, of course, is not a newspaper, but a gazette of governmental notices, etc.  The Government has its own printing-office, but if these other, the ‘Tribune’ and the ‘Liberal,’ had establishments here, they would be raided and closed, for they would hardly be allowed to criticize the Government as harshly as they do.  The ‘Tribune’ is in French and Tahitian, the ‘Liberal’ and the ’Journal Officiel’ in French.  One time it was recommended that the official paper might be more popular if it had some fiction for the natives, so they printed a translation of ‘Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves,’ but everybody laughed, so it was dropped.

“The Mormons have the best paper here.  It is a monthly, too.  There is plenty need here for a fearless newspaper.  The faults, weaknesses, and venality of the Government call for publicity, but I’m afraid the journalist might soon find himself in prison.  You can do nothing.  The fault is in this damned climate—­la fievre du corail.  Paul Deschanel, senator of France, who wrote a book on this island without ever leaving his chair in Paris, says: 

“In presence of the apparent facts one is forced to ask himself if there is not in the climate of this enchanted Tahiti, in the soft air that one breathes, a force sweet but invincible which at length penetrates the soul, enervates the will and enfeebles all sense of usefulness or right, or the least energy necessary to make them triumph.

“It is this spirit, without any harmony, bereft of all real cordiality between neighbors, of family and family, which one must find in the ambient air and which is called the coral fever.”