requirements as it was, their beaming faces eloquently proclaimed the reality of their joy.  Heavy woollen shirts, thick cloth trousers and jackets, knitted socks; but acceptable beyond all was a pilot-suit—­warm enough for the Channel in winter.  Happy above all power of expression was he who secured it.  With an eared cloth cap and a pair of half boots, to complete his preposterous rig, no Bond Street exquisite could feel more calmly conscious of being a well-dressed man than he.  From henceforth he would be the observed of all observers at chapel on Sunday, exciting worldly desires and aspirations among his cooler but coveting fellow-worshippers.

The ladies fared very badly, until the skipper, with a twinkling eye, announced that he had “dug up” some rolls of “cloth” (calico), which he was prepared to supply us with at reasonable rates.  Being of rather pretty pattern, it went off like hot pies, and as the “fathoms” of gaudy, flimsy material were distributed to the delighted fafines, their shrill cries of gratitude were almost deafening.

Inexorable time brought round the morning of our departure.  Willing hands lifted our anchor, and hoisted the sails, so that we had nothing to do but look on.  A scarcely perceptible breeze, stealing softly over the tree-tops, filled our upper canvas, sparing us the labour of towing her out of the little bay where we had lain so long, and gradually wafted us away from its lovely shores, amid the fast-flowing tears of the great crowd.  With multitudinous cries of “Ofa, al-ofa, papalang” ringing in our ears ("Good-bye; good-bye, white man"), we rounded the point, and, with increasing pace, bore away through the outlying islands for the open sea.  There was a strong trade blowing, making the old barky caper like a dancing-master, which long unfamiliar motion almost disagreed with some of us, after our long quiet.  Under its hastening influence we made such good time that before dinner Vau Vau had faded into nothingness, mingling like the clouds with the soft haze on the horizon, from henceforth only a memory.

We were not a very cheerful crowd that night, most of us being busy with his own reflections.  I must confess that I felt far greater sorrow at leaving Vau Vau than ever I did at leaving England; because by the time I was able to secure a berth, I have usually drunk pretty deep of the bitter cup of the “outward bounder,” than whom there is no more forlorn, miserable creature on earth.  No one but the much abused boarding-master will have anything to do with him, and that worthy is generally careful to let him know that he is but a hanger-on, a dependant on sufferance for a meal, and that his presence on shore is an outrage.  As for the sailors’ homes, I have hardly patience to speak of them.  I know the sailor is usually a big baby that wants protecting against himself, and that once within the four walls of the institution he is safe; but right there commendation must end.  Why are good folks