I stumbled
upon
one
curious
character
in
the
Island
of
Mani.
He
became a
sore
annoyance
to
me
in
the
course
of
time. My
first
glimpse
of
him
was
in
a
sort
of
public
room
in
the
town
of
Lahaina.
He
occupied a chair
at
the
opposite
side
of
the
apartment,
and
sat
eyeing
our
party
with
interest
for
some
minutes,
and
listening
as
critically
to
what
we
were
saying
as
if
he
fancied
we
were
talking
to
him
and
expecting
him
to
reply. I
thought
it
very
sociable
in
a stranger. Presently,
in
the
course
of
conversation, I
made
a statement bearing
upon
the
subject
under
discussion—and I
made
it
with
due
modesty,
for
there
was
nothing
extraordinary
about
it,
and
it
was
only
put
forth
in
illustration
of
a
point
at
issue. I had
barely
finished
when
this
person
spoke
out
with
rapid
utterance
and
feverish
anxiety: "Oh,
that
was
certainly remarkable,
after
a fashion,
but
you
ought
to
have
seen
my chimney—you
ought
to
have
seen
my chimney, sir! Smoke! I
wish
I
may
hang
if—Mr. Jones,
you
remember
that
chimney—you
must
remember
that
chimney! No, no—I recollect, now,
you
warn't
living
on
this
side
of
the
island
then.
But
I
am
telling
you
nothing
but
the
truth,
and
I
wish
I
may
never
draw
another
breath
if
that
chimney
didn't
smoke
so
that
the
smoke
actually got caked
in
it
and
I had
to
dig
it
out
with
a pickaxe!
You
may
smile, gentlemen,
but
the
High Sheriff's got a
hunk
of
it
which
I dug
out
before
his
eyes,
and
so
it's perfectly
easy
for
you
to
go
and
examine
for
yourselves."
The
interruption
broke
up
the
conversation,
which
had
already
begun
to
lag,
and
we
presently
hired
some
natives
and
an
out-rigger canoe
or
two,
and
went
out
to
overlook
a
grand
surf-bathing contest.
Two
weeks
after
this,
while
talking
in
a company, I
looked
up
and
detected
this
same
man
boring
through
and
through
me
with
his
intense
eye,
and
noted
again
his
twitching
muscles
and
his
feverish
anxiety
to
speak.
The
moment
I paused,
he
said: "Beg
your
pardon, sir,
beg
your
pardon,
but
it
can
only
be
considered
remarkable
when
brought
into
strong
outline
by
isolation. Sir, contrasted
with
a
circumstance
which
occurred
in
my
own
experience,
it
instantly
becomes
commonplace. No,
not
that—for I
will
not
speak
so
discourteously
of
any
experience
in
the
career
of
a
stranger
and
a gentleman—but I
am
obliged
to
say
that
you
could
not,
and
you
would
not
ever
again
refer
to
this
tree
as
a
large
one,
if
you
could
behold,
as
I have,
the
great
Yakmatack tree,
in
the
island
of
Ounaska,
sea
of
Kamtchatka—a tree, sir,
not
one
inch
less
than
four
hundred
and
fifteen
feet
in
solid
diameter!—and I
wish
I
may
die
in
a
minute
if
it
isn't so! Oh,
you
needn't
look
so
questioning, gentlemen; here's
old
Cap
Saltmarsh
can
say
whether
I
know
what
I'm talking
about
or
not. I
showed
him
the
tree." Captain Saltmarsh—"Come, now,
cat
your
anchor, lad—you're heaving
too
taut.
You
promised
to
show
me
that
stunner,
and
I walked
more
than
eleven
mile
with
you
through
the
cussedest
jungle
I
ever
see, a
hunting
for
it;
but
the
tree
you
showed
me
finally warn't
as
big
around
as
a
beer
cask,
and
you
know
that
your
own
self, Markiss." "Hear
the
man
talk!
Of
course
the
tree
was
reduced
that
way,
but
didn't I
explain
it?
Answer
me, didn't I? Didn't I
say
I
wished
you
could
have
seen
it
when
I
first
saw
it?
When
you
got
up
on
your
ear
and
called
me
names,
and
said I had brought
you
eleven
miles
to
look
at
a sapling, didn't I
explain
to
you
that
all
the
whale-ships
in
the
North
Seas
had been
wooding
off
of
it
for
more
than
twenty-seven years?
And
did
you
s'pose
the
tree
could
last
for-ever, con-found it? I don't
see
why
you
want
to
keep
back
things
that
way,
and
try
to
injure
a
person
that's
never
done
you
any
harm." Somehow
this
man's
presence
made
me
uncomfortable,
and
I
was
glad
when
a
native
arrived
at
that
moment
to
say
that
Muckawow,
the
most
companionable
and
luxurious
among
the
rude
war-chiefs
of
the
Islands,
desired
us
to
come
over
and
help
him
enjoy
a
missionary
whom
he
had found
trespassing
on
his
grounds. I
think
it
was
about
ten
days
afterward
that,
as
I finished a statement I
was
making
for
the
instruction
of
a
group
of
friends
and
acquaintances,
and
which
made
no
pretence
of
being extraordinary, a
familiar
voice chimed instantly
in
on
the
heels
of
my
last
word,
and
said: "But, my
dear
sir,
there
was
nothing
remarkable
about
that
horse,
or
the
circumstance
either—nothing
in
the
world! I
mean
no
sort
of
offence
when
I
say
it, sir,
but
you
really
do
not
know
anything
whatever
about
speed.
Bless
your
heart,
if
you
could
only
have
seen
my
mare
Margaretta;
there
was
a beast!—there
was
lightning
for
you! Trot!
Trot
is
no
name
for
it—she flew!
How
she
could
whirl
a buggy along! I started
her
out
once, sir—Colonel Bilgewater,
you
recollect
that
animal perfectly well—I started
her
out
about
thirty
or
thirty-five
yards
ahead
of
the
awfullest
storm
I
ever
saw
in
my life,
and
it
chased
us
upwards
of
eighteen
miles!
It
did,
by
the
everlasting hills!
And
I'm telling
you
nothing
but
the
unvarnished
truth
when
I
say
that
not
one
single
drop
of
rain
fell
on
me—not a single drop, sir!
And
I
swear
to
it!
But
my
dog
was
a-swimming
behind
the
wagon
all
the
way!"
For
a
week
or
two
I stayed
mostly
within
doors,
for
I
seemed
to
meet
this
person
everywhere,
and
he
had
become
utterly
hateful
to
me.
But
one
evening
I
dropped
in
on
Captain Perkins
and
his
friends,
and
we
had a
sociable
time.
About
ten
o'clock
I
chanced
to
be
talking
about
a
merchant
friend
of
mine,
and
without
really
intending
it,
the
remark slipped
out
that
he
was
a
little
mean
and
parsimonious
about
paying
his
workmen. Instantly,
through
the
steam
of
a
hot
whiskey
punch
on
the
opposite
side
of
the
room, a
remembered
voice shot—and
for
a
moment
I
trembled
on
the
imminent
verge
of
profanity: "Oh, my
dear
sir, really
you
expose
yourself
when
you
parade
that
as
a surprising circumstance.
Bless
your
heart
and
hide,
you
are
ignorant
of
the
very
A B C
of
meanness!
ignorant
as
the
unborn
babe!
ignorant
as
unborn
twins!
You
don't
know
anything
about
it!
It
is
pitiable
to
see
you, sir, a well-spoken
and
prepossessing stranger,
making
such
an
enormous
pow-wow
here
about
a
subject
concerning
which
your
ignorance
is
perfectly humiliating!
Look
me
in
the
eye,
if
you
please;
look
me
in
the
eye. John
James
Godfrey
was
the
son
of
poor
but
honest
parents
in
the
State
of
Mississippi—boyhood
friend
of
mine—bosom
comrade
in
later years.
Heaven
rest
his
noble
spirit,
he
is
gone
from
us
now. John
James
Godfrey
was
hired
by
the
Hayblossom Mining
Company
in
California
to
do
some
blasting
for
them—the "Incorporated
Company
of
Mean
Men,"
the
boys
used
to
call
it. "Well,
one
day
he
drilled a
hole
about
four
feet
deep
and
put
in
an
awful
blast
of
powder,
and
was
standing
over
it
ramming
it
down
with
an
iron
crowbar
about
nine
foot
long,
when
the
cussed
thing
struck a spark
and
fired
the
powder,
and
scat!
away
John
Godfrey
whizzed
like
a skyrocket,
him
and
his
crowbar! Well, sir,
he
kept
on
going
up
in
the
air
higher
and
higher,
till
he
didn't
look
any
bigger
than
a boy—and
he
kept going
on
up
higher
and
higher,
till
he
didn't
look
any
bigger
than
a doll—and
he
kept
on
going
up
higher
and
higher,
till
he
didn't
look
any
bigger
than
a
little
small bee—and
then
he
went
out
of
sight! Presently
he
came
in
sight again,
looking
like
a
little
small bee—and
he
came
along
down
further
and
further,
till
he
looked
as
big
as
a
doll
again—and
down
further
and
further,
till
he
was
as
big
as
a
boy
again—and
further
and
further,
till
he
was
a full-sized
man
once
more;
and
then
him
and
his
crowbar
came a wh-izzing
down
and
lit
right
exactly
in
the
same
old
tracks
and
went
to
r-ramming down,
and
r-ramming down,
and
r-ramming
down
again,
just
the
same
as
if
nothing
had happened!
Now
do
you
know,
that
poor
cuss warn't gone
only
sixteen
minutes,
and
yet
that
Incorporated
Company
of
Mean
Men
DOCKED
HIM
FOR
THE
LOST TIME!" I said I had
the
headache,
and
so
excused
myself
and
went home.
And
on
my
diary
I
entered
"another
night
spoiled"
by
this
offensive loafer.
And
a
fervent
curse
was
set
down
with
it
to
keep
the
item
company.
And
the
very
next
day
I
packed
up,
out
of
all
patience,
and
left
the
Island.
Almost
from
the
very
beginning, I
regarded
that
man
as
a liar.
The
line
of
points
represents
an
interval
of
years.
At
the
end
of
which
time
the
opinion
hazarded
in
that
last
sentence came
to
be
gratifyingly
and
remarkably endorsed,
and
by
wholly
disinterested persons.
The
man
Markiss
was
found
one
morning
hanging
to
a
beam
of
his
own
bedroom (the
doors
and
windows
securely
fastened
on
the
inside), dead;
and
on
his
breast
was
pinned
a paper
in
his
own
handwriting
begging
his
friends
to
suspect
no
innocent
person
of
having
any
thing
to
do
with
his
death,
for
that
it
was
the
work
of
his
own
hands
entirely.
Yet
the
jury
brought
in
the
astounding
verdict
that
deceased came
to
his
death
"by
the
hands
of
some
person
or
persons
unknown!"
They
explained
that
the
perfectly undeviating
consistency
of
Markiss's
character
for
thirty
years
towered
aloft
as
colossal
and
indestructible testimony,
that
whatever statement
he
chose
to
make
was
entitled
to
instant
and
unquestioning
acceptance
as
a lie.
And
they
furthermore
stated
their
belief
that
he
was
not
dead,
and
instanced
the
strong
circumstantial
evidence
of
his
own
word
that
he
was
dead—and
beseeched
the
coroner
to
delay
the
funeral
as
long
as
possible,
which
was
done.
And
so
in
the
tropical climate
of
Lahaina
the
coffin
stood
open
for
seven
days,
and
then
even
the
loyal
jury
gave
him
up.
But
they
sat
on
him
again,
and
changed
their
verdict
to
"suicide
induced
by
mental
aberration"—because, said they,
with
penetration, "he said
he
was
dead,
and
he
was
dead;
and
would
he
have
told
the
truth
if
he
had been
in
his
right
mind? No, sir."