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$Unique_ID{bob01524}
$Pretitle{}
$Title{Sketches, Old And New
Honoured As A Curiosity}
$Subtitle{}
$Author{Twain, Mark}
$Affiliation{}
$Subject{captain
see
pictures
see
figures
}
$Date{1893}
$Log{See Addressing The Captain*0152401.scf
}
Title: Sketches, Old And New
Book: Honoured As A Curiosity
Author: Twain, Mark
Date: 1893
Honoured As A Curiosity
If you get into conversation with a stranger in Honolulu, and experience
that natural desire to know what sort of ground you are treading on by finding
out what manner of man your stranger is, strike out boldly and address him as
"Captain." Watch him narrowly, and if you see by his countenance that you are
on the wrong track, ask him where he preaches. It is a safe bet that he is
either a missionary or captain of a whaler. I became personally acquainted
with seventy-two captains and ninety-six missionaries. The captains and
ministers form one-half of the population; the third fourth is composed of
common Kanakas and mercantile foreigners and their families; and the final
fourth is made up of high officers of the Hawaiian Government. And there are
just about cats enough for three apiece all around.
[See Addressing The Captain: It is safe that he is either a missionary or
captain of a whaler.]
A solemn stranger met me in the suburbs one day, and said:
"Good morning, your reverence. Preach in the stone church yonder, no
doubt!"
"No, I don't. I'm not a preacher."
"Really, I beg your pardon, captain. I trust you had a good season. How
much oil" -
"Oil! Why what do you take me for? I'm not a whaler."
"Oh! I beg a thousand pardons, your Excellency. Major-General in the
household troops, no doubt? Minister of the Interior, likely? Secretary of
War? First Gentleman of the Bedchamber? Commissioner of the Royal" -
"Stuff! man. I'm not connected in any way with the Government."
"Bless my life! Then who the mischief are you? what the mischief are
you? and how the mischief did you get here? and where in thunder did you
come from?"
"I'm only a private personage - an unassuming stranger - lately arrived
from America."
"No! Not a missionary! not a whaler! not a member of his Majesty's
Government! not even Secretary of the Navy! Ah! heaven! it is too blissful
to be true; alas! I do but dream. And yet that noble, honest countenance -
those oblique, ingenuous eyes - that massive head, incapable of - of anything;
your hand; give me your hand, bright waif. Excuse these tears. For sixteen
weary years I have yearned for a moment like this, and" -
Here his feeling was too much for him, and he swooned away. I pitied
this poor creature from the bottom of my heart. I was deeply moved. I shed a
few tears on him, and kissed him for his mother. I then took what small
change he had, and "shoved."