The Liberal, Volume I, Number 43, 8 February 1893 — A REIGN OF TERROR OR The Dirty Demon at Waikiki. [ARTICLE]

A REIGN OF TERROR OR The Dirty Demon at Waikiki.

[E. ELSWORTH CANE-BOTTOM.] 'Twas midnight. Martial law which had been proclaimed by the new government was raised. The score of young patriots to whose war-like address and military alacrity the people of Honolulu were indebted for the preservation of peace, and protection of poultry, had been required to retire from official life, and the city was once more plunged into a state of insecurity, and particular solicitude on the part of chicken owners - who from no inconsiderable portion of the city's wealthy and respectable residents. Not a soul was visible upon the streets. Ever and anon loud peals of thunder from the mighty arch above would cause the earth to tremble. Great of rain, as if impelled by some mysterious force into demoniacal violence, came driving against the windows of an old fashioned building situated in a secluded spot a tWaikiki, where, upon a couch in the upper story reclined a female woman, raving with a wild fury which sent a thrill of horror coursing down the backbone of the awed beholder. Occasionally she would toss her masculine-like arms to and fro, and utter between her set, but pearly and regular her lay a rosy-cheeked infant sleeping sweetly. At last, ere the first flush of dawn streaked the eastern sky, she arose from her restless couch, and hurriedly snatched the sleeping infant from its sweet slumbers. The lovely child unsuspicious of harm nestl-

ed confidingly in its mother's arms. Outside the wind soughed and groaned. Th shutters rattled and the old house shivered to its very foundation. If Honolulu had known the drama that was to be enacted the Provisional Government would certainly have called out Co. B. Making her way cautiously, taking advantage of the glare of an occasional flash of lightning, she descended into the cold, damp basement of the house. Lighting a small smoky lamp she proceeded to deliberately divest the child of its Gainty ment. Before her stood a large tub filled with water. Placing her hands over the child's mouth to smother its cries, she suddenly plunged it beneath the cold, wet water-after the infant was submerged, she seized a bar of Hawaiian Soap, manufactured by M.W. McChesney & Sons, and applied it to the infant's delicate cuticle. The babe ceased to cry and a bright, joyous smile illuminated its countenance. Hawaiian Soap always gives satisfaction. N.B. For fear that the Advertiser may deem the above a p sism , I desire to state that it was not stolen from the pen of any of its realistic Rider Haggard School contributors, but is entirely original. E.E.C.