“Pig!  It is a little dog.  Have you no dogs in your country?”

“Pigs go on four legs.  That must be pig.”

“What, you have nothing that goes on four legs but a pig!  What do you eat, then, besides pig?”

“Yams, cocoa-nut, fish—­oh, so good, and put pig into hole among hot stones, make a fire over, bake so nice!”

“You shall have some of my tea and see if that is as nice,” said Lucy.  “What a funny dress you have; what is it made of?”

“Tapa cloth,” said the little girl.  “We get the bark off the tree, and then we go hammer, hammer, thump, thump, till all the hard thick stuff comes off;” and Lucy, looking near, saw that the substance was really all a lacework of fibre, about as close as the net of Nurse’sb caps.

“Is that all your clothes?” she asked.

“Yes, till I am a warrior,” said the boy; “then they will tattoo my forehead, and arms, and breast, and legs.”

“Tattoo? what’s that!”

“Make little holes, and lines all over the skin with a sharp shell, and rub in juice that turns it all to blue and purple lines.”

“But doesn’t it hurt dreadfully?” asked Lucy.

“Hurt! to be sure it does, but that will show that I am brave.  When father comes home from the war he paints himself white.”

“White?”

“With lime made by burning coral, and he jumps and dances and shouts.  I shall go to the war one of these days.”

“Oh no, don’t!” said Lucy, “it is horrid.”

The boy laughed, but the little girl whispered, “Good white men say so.  Some day Lavo will go and learn, and leave off fighting.”

Lavo shook his head.  “No, not yet; I will be brave chief and warrior first,—­bring home many heads of enemies.”

“I—­I think it nice to be quiet,” said Lucy; “and—­and—­won’t you have some dinner?”

“Have you baked a pig?” asked Lavo.

“I think this is mutton,” said Lucy, when the dish came up,—­“It is sheep’s flesh.”

Lavo and his sister had no notion what sheep were.  They wanted to sit cross-legged on the floor, but Lucy made each of them sit in a chair properly; but then they shocked her by picking up the mutton-chops and stuffing them into their mouths with their fingers.

“Look here!” and she showed the knives and forks.

“Oh!” cried Lavo, “what good spikes to catch fish with! and knife—­ knife—­I’ll kill foes! much better than shell knife.”

“And I’ll dig yams,” said the sister.

“Oh, no!” entreated Lucy, “we have spades to dig with, soldiers have swords to fight with; these are to eat with.”