The House of Pride | Page 7

up. The orchestra had finished "Aloha Oe" and
was preparing to go home. Percival Ford clapped his hands for the
Japanese servant.
"You tell that man I want to see him," he said, pointing out Joe Garland.
"Tell him to come here, now."
Joe Garland approached and halted respectfully several paces away,
nervously fingering the guitar which he still carried. The other did not
ask him to sit down.
"You are my brother," he said.

"Why, everybody knows that," was the reply, in tones of wonderment.
"Yes, so I understand," Percival Ford said dryly. "But I did not know it
till this evening."
The half-brother waited uncomfortably in the silence that followed,
during which Percival Ford coolly considered his next utterance.
"You remember that first time I came to school and the boys ducked
me?" he asked. "Why did you take my part?"
The half-brother smiled bashfully.
"Because you knew?"
"Yes, that was why."
"But I didn't know," Percival Ford said in the same dry fashion.
"Yes," the other said.
Another silence fell. Servants were beginning to put out the lights on
the lanai.
"You know . . . now," the half-brother said simply.
Percival Ford frowned. Then he looked the other over with a
considering eye.
"How much will you take to leave the Islands and never come back?"
he demanded.
"And never come back?" Joe Garland faltered. "It is the only land I
know. Other lands are cold. I do not know other lands. I have many
friends here. In other lands there would not be one voice to say, 'Aloha,
Joe, my boy.'"
"I said never to come back," Percival Ford reiterated. "The Alameda
sails tomorrow for San Francisco."

Joe Garland was bewildered.
"But why?" he asked. "You know now that we are brothers."
"That is why," was the retort. "As you said yourself, everybody knows.
I will make it worth your while."
All awkwardness and embarrassment disappeared from Joe Garland.
Birth and station were bridged and reversed.
"You want me to go?" he demanded.
"I want you to go and never come back," Percival Ford answered.
And in that moment, flashing and fleeting, it was given him to see his
brother tower above him like a mountain, and to feel himself dwindle
and dwarf to microscopic insignificance. But it is not well for one to
see himself truly, nor can one so see himself for long and live; and only
for that flashing moment did Percival Ford see himself and his brother
in true perspective. The next moment he was mastered by his meagre
and insatiable ego.
"As I said, I will make it worth your while. You will not suffer. I will
pay you well."
"All right," Joe Garland said. "I'll go."
He started to turn away.
"Joe," the other called. "You see my lawyer tomorrow morning. Five
hundred down and two hundred a month as long as you stay away."
"You are very kind," Joe Garland answered softly. "You are too kind.
And anyway, I guess I don't want your money. I go tomorrow on the
Alameda."
He walked away, but did not say good-bye.
Percival Ford clapped his hands.

"Boy," he said to the Japanese, "a lemonade."
And over the lemonade he smiled long and contentedly to himself.

KOOLAU THE LEPER
"Because we are sick they take away our liberty. We have obeyed the
law. We have done no wrong. And yet they would put us in prison.
Molokai is a prison. That you know. Niuli, there, his sister was sent to
Molokai seven years ago. He has not seen her since. Nor will he ever
see her. She must stay there until she dies. This is not her will. It is not
Niuli's will. It is the will of the white men who rule the land. And who
are these white men?
"We know. We have it from our fathers and our fathers' fathers. They
came like lambs, speaking softly. Well might they speak softly, for we
were many and strong, and all the islands were ours. As I say, they
spoke softly. They were of two kinds. The one kind asked our
permission, our gracious permission, to preach to us the word of God.
The other kind asked our permission, our gracious permission, to trade
with us. That was the beginning. Today all the islands are theirs, all the
land, all the cattle--everything is theirs. They that preached the word of
God and they that preached the word of Rum have fore-gathered and
become great chiefs. They live like kings in houses of many rooms,
with multitudes of servants to care for them. They who had nothing
have everything, and if you, or I, or any Kanaka be hungry, they sneer
and say, 'Well, why don't you work? There are the plantations.'"
Koolau