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Updated: June 19, 2025
We sat or lay on the after-deck while the bandsmen on the low rail or hatch maintained a continuous concert. During the several days between our first planning the trip and the going, a song had been written in honor of the junketing, and this they played scores of times before we set foot again in Papeete. It was entitled: "Himene Tatou Arcarea," which meant, "Our Festal Song."
"Remember that steamer Valkyrie the Germans were supposed to have sunk by accident in the harbor of Papeete during the bombardment in September of 1914?" he queried. "I believe I read something about it in the papers at the time," Mr. Skinner replied. "What about her?" Matt Peasley demanded. "Why, the Germans didn't sink her at all, Matt! The Frenchmen did it," Cappy shrilled.
The thing had trotted after Adams like a black dog. It was within a few yards of him. "Go back," shouted Adams. "Tick-tick," replied Papeete. It was the only English the creature knew. It stood frying in the sun, grinning and glistening, till Adams, with an assumption of ferocity, made for it, then back it went, and Adams, laughing, plunged under the veil of leaves.
Rather than risk having her recaptured, they opened her sea cocks and sunk her! And, at that, they didn't have sense enough to run her out to deep water. No! They had to do the trick as she lay at anchor; and there she lies still, a menace to navigation and a perennial reminder to those Papeete Frenchmen that he who acts in haste will repent at leisure." To this outburst Mr.
Early in his fall he had ceased to be able to make remittances; shortly after, having nothing but failure to communicate, he ceased writing home; and about a year before this tale begins, turned suddenly upon the streets of San Francisco by a vulgar and infuriated German Jew, he had broken the last bonds of self-respect, and, upon a sudden impulse, changed his name and invested his last dollar in a passage on the mail brigantine, the City of Papeete.
'See here, he began, holding out his cigar between his finger and thumb, 'suppose you figure up what this'll amount to. You don't catch on? Well, we get two months' advance; we can't get away from Papeete our creditors wouldn't let us go for less; it'll take us along about two months to get to Sydney; and when we get there, I just want to put it to you squarely: What the better are we?
It is without peer or competitor in endless leagues of waves. Yet Papeete is a little place, a mile or so in length and less in width, a curious imposition of European houses and manners upon a Tahitian hamlet, hybrid, a mixture of loveliness and ugliness, of nature savage and tamed.
My brain reels at the visions your words have conjured up." "Sit down, then, my dear Bateman," laughed Edward. "My machine for cutting the coconuts will always remain unused, and so far as I'm concerned street-cars shall never run in the idle streets of Papeete." Bateman sank heavily into his chair. "I don't understand you," he said. "It came upon me little by little.
When she was three he sent her to the convent at Papeete. When she was seven or eight he sent her to France. You begin to glimpse the situation. The best and most aristocratic convent in France was none too good for the only daughter of a Paumotan island king and capitalist, and you know the old country French draw no colour line.
It was with a heavy heart that I drove back to my comfortable home in Papeete." For a long time none of us spoke. "But Ata did not send for me," the doctor went on, at last, "and it chanced that I did not go to that part of the island for a long time. I had no news of Strickland. Once or twice I heard that Ata had been to Papeete to buy painting materials, but I did not happen to see her.
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