"Ruth, please see who is knocking at the side door," said Mrs. Hamilton
early one morning in the month of August. "It's a native man, Mamma,"
said Ruth a moment later, "he wants to see you, but says he can wait
until you can come. I think he has never been here before; he is very
old; and he has a small tin pail with him." When Mrs. Hamilton opened
the door leading to the veranda, the rising sun was glorifying a strip
of lawn, glancing among young orange trees, glowing along an hibiscus
hedge, and giving an effect beyond description to a golden-shower tree
in full bloom. On either side of the steps leading to the drive, banks
of ferns stood crisp and cool. The grass was bright with fairy rainbows
strung on drops of dew. "Oh, what a morning to be alive!" thought Mrs.
Hamilton, "what, I wonder, will be the first thing given me to do this
beautiful day?" From the lower step arose, at this instant, Kalani. With
the grace and dignity natural to the Hawaiian, he bared his head, and,
holding his tattered hat in his hand, gave the friendly salutation
"Aloha" which Mrs. Hamilton returned in as friendly a tone. Noting in an
instant the splendid proportions of his head, his fine brow, and the
character which shone from every feature of his up-turned face, it was
with the sincerest interest that she asked in Hawaiian, "What can I do
for you, what would you like?" Kalani took a step sideways into the
ferns, still looking up into her eyes, and, with various apologetic
expressions flitting across his face, finally took hold of the lapel of
his coat with his left hand and, drawing it slightly forward, said, "I
didn't know but perhaps you had a cast-off coat that you would be
willing to give me. This one is very old and has many holes. If I had a
better one I should wear it to church and that would be _maikai loa_
(very pleasant), but, if not, never mind, it will be all right" (_like
pu, he maikai no ia_). Mrs. Hamilton's quick eye took in at a glance the
entire suit in which this son of the soil stood. His garments showed
their many patches, and she thought that the colors of the remnants
still clinging together, would be difficult to reproduce upon any
painter's palette. Stepping within the bedroom door she found Mr.
Hamilton adjusting his necktie before the mirror. "George," she said,
"do you suppose you have a second-hand coat I might give this man? He
needs one badly enough. There is something singularly appealing about
him, and, you can see in a moment, he is no beggar."
"Yes, I guess so," said Mr. Hamilton, first taking a glance through the
door at Kalani and then proceeding to his wardrobe. Presently he
returned and handed his wife an entire suit of grey woolen clothes.
"My," said she, "he has asked only for a _coat_! I'll give them to him
one by one. Come out and enjoy the good time with me." Returning to the
veranda she held up the coat. "Do you suppose this will fit you?" she
asked. "Oh yes, yes!" was the quick reply, "you must see for yourself,"
and his hands trembled as he carefully withdrew the delicate coat he
wore from his shoulders. "See, see, it fits, it fits!" (_Ku no, ku no!_)
and his hands stroked down the sleeves, and lovingly patted the pocket
flaps.
His expressions of delight and appreciation were cut short by Mrs.
Hamilton's holding up the trousers. "What do you think about these?"
Kalani shot a lightning glance at Mr. Hamilton, who stood on the veranda
enjoying the scene, and said "Oh, yes, we are just the same size." "He,"
pointing to Mr. Hamilton, "isn't any bigger than I am." Taking the
trousers, the old man avowed most solemnly that they would be just right
(_ku pono loa_). "Besides," said he with a look of conscious pride,
"I've got an old wife who can fix them if they are not." So that point
was settled. The vest was now held up. "Of course you don't want this,"
said Mrs. Hamilton, "it will make you too warm." "A vest, a vest!" he
cried, "no it won't, oh, I shall be too proud for anything, (_hookano
maoli_) to have a vest!"
All three were laughing by this time, Kalani as much as the others.
"Dear me," said Mr. Hamilton, "this is getting interesting. I must see
if I can't find him something else." In a moment he was back with a
neat, striped negligee shirt, which he himself offered the old man. The
expression on the shining face of the native as he received this fresh
gift, was something to remember. It was brother looking into brother's
face, with a something too deep for words. It was an expression that one
would like to meet again, in the world beyond.
"Let's give him a hat," said George Jr., who had joined the group on the
veranda, "there are a lot on the hat-tree to spare." The tattered hat
under Kalani's arm had not spoken in vain. As the boy was searching for
one, his father cried to him, "Bring the silk hat from the top peg."
"No, no," said Mrs. Hamilton, "don't let us spoil a good thing by
allowing the old man to think we are making fun of him." "Fun of him!"
said Mr. Hamilton, "I tell you I know what will please his soul, and
it's a silk hat, now see if it's not." George first handed his mother a
brown derby, only slightly the worse for wear, and then a silk hat still
possessed of a good shine but not the most modern in shape. Having only
the first in evidence, Mrs. Hamilton again addressed Kalani. "Do you
think you could wear this hat?" "That hat for me? Oh how fine! Yes, yes,
I know--" here his words failed, for his eyes had caught sight of the
silk hat, which Mr. Hamilton was in a great hurry to prove would be the
climax of his life. "Here, try this, I guess you can make it stick on,"
he said. The brown derby fell among the ferns, and trembling hands
seized the shining beaver. "_Auwe, auwe! heaha keia! ka nani! ka maikai!
Auwe! ka lokomaikai!_"[5] Over the shining bald head it was pressed,
coaxed, urged and settled, and _it was a tight fit_. "There," said Mr.
Hamilton, "I told you so, he would wear that hat if it killed him,
rather than not take it when he had the chance! Of course he never had a
silk hat before in his life."
[Footnote 5: "Oh my! oh my! what's this! how splendid, how fine! Ah,
what generosity!"]
The old man was speechless and voluble by turns. His good fortune choked
him, but the joys of possession ran over his eyes and sparkled in every
square inch of his honest face. Ruth brought some wrapping paper, and
Mrs. Hamilton helped fold the articles for easy carrying. "But my hat,
how am I going to carry my hat?" he wailed. "I'll wear this one,"
putting the derby on his head, "but this _papale kilika_ (silk hat) is
to wear to church, and how am I to carry it home?" Another paper was
brought, and, with twine, a secure package was made, with a loop to slip
over his arm. Then a fresh idea came to the old man. Conscious of the
humor of the whole situation, he said, "You have left me only one thing
to ask for," and he raised a foot to which was bound a much worn shoe.
"Shoes!" cried Ruth, "May I find some, Mamma?" and in less time than it
takes to tell it she was back with a pair of half-worn brogans that were
more beautiful in Kalani's eyes than the handsomest ten-dollar boots
that ever came out of a shoe emporium. Now there really seemed to be
nothing left but for the old man to go, but he had something to say.
Lifting his happy face, he said, "You have been very good to me. I have
no money to buy such things for myself, and I was going to ask only for
a coat. I live in Palolo valley, and have no means of earning anything.
I brought a few eggs with me, thinking I could change them for something
to take back to my old wife, but now I would like to give them to you."
He slipped the cover from his pail and held up to Mrs. Hamilton's view
the half dozen small eggs. Tears filled her eyes at his honest,
dignified independence. "No, no," said she, slipping a coin in among the
eggs, "get something for the wife with the eggs, and give her our
_aloha_."
At last with many an _aloha_ and _auwe_ of benediction, Kalani betook
himself and his new wealth down the drive, and the Hamilton family
answered the breakfast bell.