Hawaii Holomua, Volume III, Number 32, 5 August 1893 — AN EPISODE. [ARTICLE]

AN EPISODE.

It was mght on Emma street. It was also night in the rest of the town. It was one of those nights uni knowu outside the Paradise of the j Pacific The moon seemed to throw a vel- i vet light over the town. The glowi ing co!or of the flower of the Foneiana threw a deep hue of red over i tbe vicinity of the hotel—f>r was it the color caused by some whoop- ■ ing-it-up royalists? | The air was laden with the fragj rance from the richly perfumed ! Hawaiian ftora, and the still richer I perfume from the Chinese wash and ; poi-b»uses. A man speeded along Emma street. Whoa! Emma! He was wrapped m deep mediialion, and a elouk, and wore a slouch-hat, and an impediraent in his walk. He also carried a guitar. j The guitar waa of Spanish make, and cost four dollars at the Golden Rule Bazaar. Tbe guitar was suspended by a ribbon across his maoly bosom. The ribbon was a patchwork made up of an equal number of i hlue annexation eluh badges. and white Aloha Aina Leagne badges. The ribbon indicated the man’a po!itical standing and upinion. He didn’t know where he was—- | nor did anybody else. He was on Emma street. He passed Ruth’s residence with- ! out a glance at it. Had he beeo able to look in. he would bave seen the present tenant • in vain, and in uneasioess acd embroidered night gown seeking sleep. Pictures of tbe coming restoration : day with a mixture of the Uanning estate prevented the present tenant fn>m sieeping. But the man sped by. heeding notbing. * When he reached the top of tbe j hill, he stopped outside tti« iast bouse. He entered the vard. He waao’t afraid of the dog. Hia leg whieh the dog would bite was made of cork. The bite didn’t hurt tbe Ieg. It hurt the dog. Ue stood siieot for a f«w minutes. Then he dropped a f«w tears,and • J»iwaese Ubor ooolnei. Tb* tear» gIiUersd in tbe moooUfht.

Tbe contrac» was rcfleclcd in the , Star. He threw a glanoe at the doub!ebarrelled comets. Tbey were eom- . īnsr nearer. He dtdn t see ihem. though they wrre only 33,000,000 tnile* away then. He re*iixed the eituatt«»n and j whispered to the World “tbat w»s a prro* 38,000,000 tui>es nearer. aud where woald we have beea. He strung up his gaitar «nd struck a few powerfuI chords, first j in fl;«t, Iater on sharper. Tben he | lifted his voice. It was a rich voice. It wasn’t a ;enor. It wasn't baritone. It wasu’t a bass. It was Iittle of eaeh, but it was rich —iatnaensely rich, haviug secured his 6tar fee from Spreckels. It was a sec>>nd alt»>, and reminded tbe Iistener of Trebe!li in her later days. And this is what he sang pleading!y and beseechingly, but only a deep drawn. pumped-up from-the-bottom do!eful sigh of a despairing man answered him. S- nf ni B. Dole,the grayd«wn is breaking. The voice oi the peopie is heanl on the hill, I wroie yon a letter whieh made yon feel shaking. Sanfoni B. D >le. what slnmbering st ; ll, Sanlord B. Do!e, what slumbering stil! f Or, has't thou forgotten how aoon we nmst sev«.r. O! has't thoo forgotten the day we must part; You‘re th> re fur a day, you are not there forever, TLeu why art thou si’.ent, o’i, Sanford B. Dole. Sanford B. Dole. «wake from tuy slnuibers And answer aiy letter, and give us some 1 gbt, Now.know'sf thou wLat foolsthereare : n your nuuibere ? Arise fn>m your sleep aud answer tonight. Sauford, oh, Sanford, tny sad lears are fallirg, To tln>ik that fn>m meand your home you must | art, You’re tiiere for a day, you are not there forever, The why art thon silent, oh. <Sanford B. Dolē. • — — - —