 | Our Fellow Savages of the Sandwich Islands |  |
THEY USED TO BE CRUEL TO THEMSELVES.
They used to tear their hair and burn their flesh, shave their heads, knock out an eye or a couple of front teeth, when a great person or a king died—just to testify to their sorrow, and if their grief was so sore that they couldn't possibly bear it, they would go out and scalp their neighbor, or burn his house down. And they used to bury some of their children alive when their families were inconveniently large. But the missionaries have broken all that up now.
These people do nearly everything wrong end first. They buckle the saddle on the right side which is the wrong side; men mount a horse on the wrong side; they turn out on the wrong side to let you go by; they use the same word to say "good-bye" and "good morning"; they use "yes" when they mean "no"; the women smoke more than the men do; when they beckon to you to come toward them they always motion in the opposite direction; they dance at funerals, and drawl out a dismal sort of a dirge when they are peculiarly happy. In their playing of
| Our Fellow Savages of the Sandwich Islands | |