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At first I felt pretty hot about it, for it smacked too much of setting a thief to catch a thief, or at least offsetting the pastor and me like the compensating idea of a ship’s chronometer; but my wife liked the respectability it give us before the natives; and Tom said my resenting it would be like putting the cap on my head. So I acted like I didn’t give a whoop, the one way or the other.

And then it wasn’t easy to be anything but fond of Old Dibs, for he was a nice man to live with, never turning up his nose at the poor food we give him, and always so kind and polite to Sarah, my wife, that she fairly idolized him. He was a real gentleman through and through, and if his money (he called it his “papers,” his valuable “papers”) weighed heavy on his mind, I guess I’d have been no better in his shoes, having to trust to strangers who might cut your throat. He had the whole island to roam over now, instead of being cooped up like a chicken in a coop, and we all noticed what a change in him it made for the better, throwing off flesh, and not panting so heavy between the spells of his flute, and walking with his head in the air like the island belonged to him.

He wasn’t much of a fluter, playing mostly from notes, and often picking them out so slow that you’d forget what the tune began like. He despised simple things like “Way Down Upon the Suwanee River,” and the difficult things seemed to despise him! But he stuck at it indefatiguable, and blew enough wind through his flute to have sailed a ship. After breakfast in the morning, which he took in his panjammers like me, he would dress himself up nice in his Prince Albert, give his topper a wipe, and start away with the flute and a roll of music in a natty little case, like he was off to the Bank for the day. The only thing that ruffled him any was the children, about eighty of them, who always went along, too, and set in a circle around him when he played. I told him they’d soon tire of tagging after him, which he said he was mighty glad to hear; but if it was flies, they couldn’t have been more pertinacious. I spoke to the king about it, and Old Dibs he complained to Iosefo, but it only seemed to whoop it up and add to the procession. The king said if he’d just flute in one place, he would put a taboo around it which neither children nor grown-ups would cross; but Old Dibs said that the looking on, even from a distance, would be quite as disturbing as being sprawled all over; and so the children followed him unabated.

Then I had a happy thought, and suggested the graveyard! This was a walled-in inclosure, perhaps a hundred feet each way, on the weather side of the island, and on a windy day, with the surf thundering in, it was the lonesomest spot where a man could find himself. The natives left it alone at all times, except to bury somebody, and none of them came nearer to it than they could help. The Kanakas have a powerful dread of spirits, and even in the daytime they’d give the place a wide berth. The walls, too, being about seven feet high, prevented the children from peeking in, except at the gateway, which was so narrow that it was easy to get out of view.

Old Dibs perked up at this and cottoned to the idea tremendous; and the graveyard soon become his regular stamping ground, except when there was a funeral. He rigged up a little shelter for himself in the center, with a music stand I made for him out of scantling; and often he took his lunch in his pocket and spent the whole day. Not a child ventured to show himself, and he had it as much to himself as though he owned it; and he could lay his stovepipe down now without any fear of its being greased up or sat on. It led to his asking a raft of questions about the natives and their superstitions, and how none of them ventured to go near the place unless in a big party. He came back to that again and again, and always with the same interest. I ought to have suspected what was running in his head, but I didn’t. In fack, we had all settled down now like we had always lived together, and I didn’t bother any more about him, or what he said or did, than if he had been my wife’s father! It was a good deal like having a rich uncle to stay with you, and after the first excitement you took it all as a matter of course.