If There Were Waggon
Roads And Obtainable Comforts, Waimea, With Its Cool Equable
Temperature, Might Become The Great Health Resort Of Invalids From
The Pacific Coast.
But Hawaii is not a place for the sick or old;
for, if people cannot ride on horseback, they can have neither
society nor change.
Mr. Lyons, one of the most famous of the early
missionaries, still clings to this place, where he has worked for
forty years. He is an Hawaiian poet; and, besides translating some
of our best hymns, has composed enough to make up the greater part
of a bulky volume, which is said to be of great merit. He says that
the language lends itself very readily to rhythmical expression. He
was indefatigable in his youth, and was four times let down the pali
by ropes to preach in the Waimanu Valley. Neither he nor his wife
can mount a horse now, and it is very dreary for them, as the
population has receded and dwindled from about them. Their house is
made lively, however, by some bright little native girls, who board
with them, and receive an English and industrial education.
The moral atmosphere of Waimea has never been a wholesome one. The
region was very early settled by a class of what may be truly termed
"mean whites," the "beach-combers" and riff-raff of the Pacific.
They lived infamous lives, and added their own to the indigenous
vices of the islands, turning the district into a perfect sink of
iniquity, in which they were known by such befitting aliases as
"Jake the Devil," etc.
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