came here in the ship Duff. The audience, all native except our crew, listened attentively to the preaching. Sitting cross-legged upon the ground and listening to preaching which we did not understand, was something to which we were not accustomed. The next day, the 15th, being our Sunday, we went on shore again to meeting in the mission chapel. Our chaplain preached. It seemed odd to have two Sundays so near together. Sunday is very much respected here. No labor or games of any kind are allowed; no, not even the picking of a cocoanut, or the paddling of your own canoe, is permitted on that day. In fact, it is more quiet and Sunday-like on the civilized islands of the Pacific than in our cities and towns. There, it is truly the Lord’s Day, and the people not only recognize it as such, but keep it sacred.
The penalty for breaking the Sabbath is making so many "fathoms" of road; for the second offense the number of "fathoms" is doubled. The walk to Papara over Broom Road is lovely, and reminds one somewhat of the shell-road leading from New Orleans to Lake Pontchartrain. It leads around the island, and is about one hundred miles long. It is sometimes called Pomars, or the Queen’s Road. At certain distances there are groves of cocoanut trees planted by Queen Pomars. They form a delightful shade, and travelers are at liberty to help themselves to the fruit. Almost every house has its garden of luscious bananas, tempting oranges, delicious pine-apples, etc. Whenever one of the trees has a piece of tapa tied around it, it is tabooed. This law, the taboo, is always respected under all circumstances
