Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 77: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Crowing Hens of Totulu ‘““Yes’m,” replied Hardin. “They do it for exercise. Keeps ’em reduced.”’ Mrs. Boyle looked sharply at the mate. “Fal” she said. ‘‘Well, it ain’t ladylike. I thought they wore clothes?” Jimmy, addressed thus abruptly, sput- tered something about “the ’eat,’’ and re- tired to the cabin to dispense the inevitable “sinnybeer’’ for Tamatau. “‘She’s a startin’ of somefing already,” he confided to second mate Wilkins as they hastily shared an extra bottle of beer. “She'll be a cuckooin’ on Totulu before you can s’y Jack Robinson. You watch.” Tamatau, to whom every year brought more of girth and less of breath, grunted heavily up the sideladder, resplendent in pajamas the design of which seemed to be an impressionistic attempt to portray orange starfish in a purple sea. Puffing, he stood at the rail, gazing fixedly at the vision of Mrs. Boyle. Great drops of perspiration ran down his fat jowls and splashed on the deck, while his enormous head smoked from the exertion of his climb. “Looks like a meltin’ chocklate drop in a tuck-shop winder,” said Jimmy, sotto voce, to Hardin, as he waited with a huge tankard of beer reinforced with gin. “Look hat ’is lamps buggin’ hout at the missis. Like ’ard boiled heggs hin a myonnaze salad.” Still enthralled, the heated monarch stretched an automatic arm for the tankard. “My wife, King,’ said Boyle. Mrs. Boyle curtseyed low. “After all,’ she thought, “a king is a king.”” And made up her mind to be kodaked with him at the earliest mo- ment. : “Humph!” said Tamatu from the depths of the goblet. | Then, relinquishing it to Jimmy for a fresh supply— ““Momona kela fahine papalangi.”’ ‘What does he say?” asked Mrs. Boyle smilingly of the captain. The skipper’s embarassment was saved by Hardin. ““He says’m,” said the mate, “that you’re ‘some lady.’”? Which was an approxi- mate, if not a literal translation. The “momona fahine’” (fat woman) held out a white-gloved hand, none too small, which was engulfed in the sweaty paw of ‘Tamatau. She made another mental note— a preserve the glove, as trophy Number wo.” 79 “‘Aren’t the ladies coming aboard?” she asked. “Them?” answered Tamatau. ‘Ugh! No.” “Mrs. Boyle looked as if she was about to say something which etiquette forbade, and followed the group to the cabin. There was one question certain to be pro- pounded by Tamatau within five minutes of his boarding either of the two vessels with the captains of which he traded—the bark- entine Margaret Ann, Captain Boyle, and the schooner Shamrock, Captain McShane —both of Sydney. It came after the drain- ing of the monarch’s fourth mug. | “What you bring me, kapitani?”’ “Ah,” said Boyle. “Present this time very fine, King. You remember light-stick Captain McShane give you last year?”’ “Umph!” replied Tamatau, who had forborne to slip the switch of the electric torch in question, imagining it a perpetual flame inspired by papalangi magic. ‘That no dam good’’—Mrs. Boyle coughed— “two day, light all gone!” ‘Well, this is different, King. This is big, oh plenty big light. Can see all around _ lagoon. I show you tonight. Can burn all time. I show Kokua how to fix.” “Kokua, he dam fool, too. Two, maybe three month now, he break noise-box you bring me last time. Kokua plenty too much dam fool.” This was a real grievance with Tamatau, for the circus orchestrion presented him by Captain Boyle had been a source of delight to all Totulu, until it broke down, to the disgrace of Kokua, general factotum - of Tamatau’s little atoll-kingdom of Totulu. “Jimmy can fix that, King,” assured Boyle. “I bring you new tunes for that too.” “Maiti,” said the mollified monarch, as Jimmy handed him his fifth flagon. “Mrs. Boyle, she bring you something too, King.”’ Tamatau, whose glance had seldom wan- dered from the buxom countenance of the skipper’s lady, which seemed to hold for him some strange fascination—somewhat to her embarassment, though she set it down as homage due—gazed at her with renewed interest. On her part, she had care- fully rehearsed her presentation speech. “I trust, sire, that they will fit,” she said. “If they don’t, I can fix ’em.” The king viewed the gift with admiration and thrust one paw in either slipper. But he made no effort to try them on, though CoOMmichoooks CO