He wore nothing but a coarse, scant mantle of faded
tappa; and from his staring, bewildered manner, I set him down as an
aged bumpkin from the interior, unaccustomed to the strange sights
and sounds of the metropolis. This old worthy was sharply reprimanded
for standing up, and thus intercepting the view of those behind; but
not comprehending exactly what was said to him, one of the
white-liveried gentry made no ceremony of grasping him by the
shoulders, and fairly crushing him down into a seat.
During all this, the old missionary in the pulpit - as well as his
associates beneath, never ventured to interfere - leaving everything
to native management. With South Sea islanders, assembled in any
numbers, there is no other way of getting along.
CHAPTER XLV.
MISSIONARY'S SERMON; WITH SOME REFLECTIONS
SOME degree of order at length restored, the service was continued, by
singing. The choir was composed of twelve or fifteen ladies of the
mission, occupying a long bench to the left of the pulpit. Almost the
entire congregation joined in.
The first air fairly startled me; it was the brave tune of Old
Hundred, adapted to a Tahitian psalm. After the graceless scenes I
had recently passed through, this circumstance, with all its
accessories, moved me forcibly.
