Two European houses stand conspicuous on the harbour side; in Europe they would seem poor enough, but they are fine houses for Samoa.  One is new; it was built the other day under the apologetic title of a Government House, to be the residence of Baron Senfft.  The other is historical; it was built by Brandeis on a mortgage, and is now occupied by the chief justice on conditions never understood, the rumour going uncontradicted that he sits rent free.  I do not say it is true, I say it goes uncontradicted; and there is one peculiarity of our officials in a nutshell,—­their remarkable indifference to their own character.  From the one house to the other extends a scattering village for the Faipule or native parliament men.  In the days of Tamasese this was a brave place, both his own house and those of the Faipule good, and the whole excellently ordered and approached by a sanded way.  It is now like a neglected bush-town, and speaks of apathy in all concerned.  But the chief scandal of Mulinuu is elsewhere.  The house of the president stands just to seaward of the isthmus, where the watch is set nightly, and armed men guard the uneasy slumbers of the government.  On the landward side there stands a monument to the poor German lads who fell at Fangalii, just beyond which the passer-by may chance to observe a little house standing back-ward from the road.  It is such a house as a commoner might use in a bush village; none could dream that it gave shelter even to a family chief; yet this is the palace of Malietoa-Natoaitele-Tamasoalii Laupepa, king of Samoa.  As you sit in his company under this humble shelter, you shall see, between the posts, the new house of the president.  His Majesty himself beholds it daily, and the tenor of his thoughts may be divined.  The fine house of a Samoan chief is his appropriate attribute; yet, after seventeen months, the government (well housed themselves) have not yet found—­have not yet sought—­a roof-tree for their sovereign.  And the lodging is typical.  I take up the president’s financial statement of September 8, 1891.  I find the king’s allowance to figure at seventy-five dollars a month; and I find that he is further (though somewhat obscurely) debited with the salaries of either two or three clerks.  Take the outside figure, and the sum expended on or for His Majesty amounts to ninety-five dollars in the month.  Lieutenant Ulfsparre and Dr. Hagberg (the chief justice’s Swedish friends) drew in the same period one hundred and forty and one hundred dollars respectively on account of salary alone.  And it should be observed that Dr. Hagberg was employed, or at least paid, from government funds, in the face of His Majesty’s express and reiterated protest.  In another column of the statement, one hundred and seventy-five dollars and seventy-five cents are debited for the chief justice’s travelling expenses.  I am of the opinion that if His Majesty desired (or dared) to take an outing, he would be asked to bear the charge from his allowance.  But although I think the chief justice had done more nobly to pay for himself, I am far from denying that his excursions were well meant; he should indeed be praised for having made them; and I leave the charge out of consideration in the following statement.