**** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE ****

Find this Story

Print, a form you can hold

Wireless download to your Amazon Kindle

Look for a summary or analysis of this Poem.

Enjoy this? Share it!

The New Hawaiian Girl Explanatory
by [?]

Kamehameha First, of the Hawaiian Islands, conquered his foes in a great battle, driving them over the high mountain peak known as Palione of the famous scenic views of the world, and the goal of all visitors in Honolulu.

The Hula (pronounced hoola) was the national muscle and abdominal dance of Hawaii, and the late King Kalakua was its enthusiastic patron. The costume of the dancers was composed chiefly of skirts of grass. The Hula (so attired) is now forbidden by law. The Hula Kui is a modification of the dance and exceedingly graceful.

Many charming young self-supporting woman in Honolulu trace their ancestry back to Kamehameha with great pride. The chant is a weird sing-song which relates the conquests of the race.

It is the custom in Honolulu to present guests at feasts and festivals, or departing visitors, with long wreaths of natural flowers, and which are worn by men, as well as women, about the head, hat, and neck. These wreaths, called lais (pronounced lays), sometimes reach below the waist.

The flower-sellers are one of the national features of Honolulu.

Scene made to represent grounds at Hawaiian hotel. Sort of open cafe or pavilion with palms, vines, and tropic flowers. RALPH sitting alone with a dreamy air.

Enter ETHEL–in short travelling suit–typical American girl–blonde and petite.


Oh, here you are. Your sister and your mother
Commissioned me detective, sleuth, and spy,
To find the disappearing son and brother;
And tell him that the time is slipping by.
Our boat will sail in just two hours, you know.
Dear Honolulu, how I hate to go.


Don’t mention it; I shun the very thought.


You see this is the sort of thing one hears
And don’t believe, until one sees the spot.
We left New York in snow up to its ears;
And now a Paradise! the palm, the rose,
The Boaganvillia, and the breath of summer.


I tell you, Honolulu is a hummer.
It pays for six long days upon the ocean –
And those sad memories of a ship’s queer motion


There’s one thing, though, that’s disappointed me, –
The much exploited Honolulu maid.
I haven’t seen a beauty in the town.


They’re thick as ripe bananas on a tree.
You have not been observing, I’m afraid.

ETHEL (shrugging her shoulders)

Oh well, tastes differ; I don’t care for brown,
At least for this pronounced Hawaiian shade;
I really can’t imagine how a man
Could love a girl dyed to a chronic tan.


Some one has said, ‘Love goes where it is sent.’

ETHEL (sadly)

I think that true; one can not guide its bent.
But I must go; and will you come along?
Your mother said to bring you.


Not quite yet;
I’ll wait until that bird completes its song;
The last I’ll hear, till many a sun has set.
Just tell the folks I’ll meet them on the pier.

[Exit ETHEL, looking disappointed.

RALPH (sitting down in a reverie)

A nice girl, Ethel; but, by Jove, it’s queer
The way a fellow’s stubborn mind will turn
To something that he should forget. That face –
I saw once on a San Francisco street,
How well I do recall the time and place.
‘A girl from Honolulu,’ some one said.
I wonder where she is now! Married? Dead?

[A silent reverie for a moment. Then speaks again.]

I planned this trip with just one crazy thought –
To look upon that strange girl’s face once more.
That is the luny project which has brought
The four of us to this idyllic shore.

[Laughs and lights a cigar.]

My scheme was worked with such consummate care
That mother thinks SHE planned the whole affair.
Then she invited Ethel as her guest.