THE clock had hardly finished striking four, when I heard Harry coming up-stairs two at a time, and "Hurra for the Sandwich Islands!" sounded at my door. So I laid down my work, and was soon in my usual seat.

I had been told by some persons from the islands that I must not expect to find every where a green and tropical verdure; for much of the country was barren, unfruitful lava. I was up on deck bright and early, to see this far-off part of the world. There was "Diamond Head" before me, an extinct volcanic mountain, of a sort of reddish dust-color, with its top fallen in, and without a tree or spear of grass. Ah! I thought, with a sigh, if all the islands are like this, it is well to warn people not to expect too much. Soon we moved our position, and sailed toward the port of Honolulu. Then we neared the land, and the pretty little village of Waikiki, with its thatched cottages snugly reposing in a tall cocoa-nut grove; then the green trees of Honolulu, and the extinct crater of the "Punchbowl," its summit fallen in too. But a rent in its side showed us that it was bright and green within, forming a huge meadow with its ragged sides. All these opened before us, in delightful contrast to the desolated crater first seen.

We passed "Telegraph Hill," and soon, in answer to a signal, our flags were hoisted, and it was known in Honolulu, that the clipper ship Archer, from San Francisco, was outside with a mail; and in less than an hour the postmaster's boat was alongside. Mr. Whitney, the editor of the "Pacific Advertiser," came, also, in his boat to get news and papers. The captain gave the passengers leave to go on shore, and stay till three o'clock, and most of them by the courtesy of Mr. Whitney went in his boat. But the captain claimed two good missionary ladies, who were on their way to Japan, and ourselves as his party; so we waited until he was ready; then we took our seats in the chair, wrapped again in the Union Jack, and were hoisted over into the boat. Just as this pushed off, and we were looking up to the vessel's side, over which were leaning the smiling, kind-hearted sailors, the captain called out, "Boys, can't you give three cheers for the doctor?" Off came every cap, and three rousing hurras filled the air, bringing tears to our eyes, through which we took our last look at the beautiful ship Archer. Then we turned with curiosity to see these islands, so new and strange. I was in quite a puzzle to know how we were going through the surf without upsetting our boat, but there was a break in the coral reef which afforded us a safe entrance. On the wharf were a good many people watching our approach, and we recognized the familiar faces of some missionaries together with those of our fellow-passengers who had landed before us. Many a hearty hand-grasp was given us as we jumped upon the wharf, the passengers saying "Good-by," and our missionary friends giving their warm welcomes to the islands.

After thanking our good captain for his kindness to us, we rode to Rev. Mr. Clark's where our home was to be for a time. We were now actually at the end of our long voyage; and we thanked our heavenly Father for preserving us through dangers seen and unseen. The house itself looked hospitable,—a two-story white building, with a double piazza, all covered by a vine resembling the grape, its bunches of brown seeds making the deception more complete. The doors and windows were all open. I was shown up to a quiet room with white curtains and bed-draperies, from which an open door led out upon the upper piazza and its green festoons of vine. What a relief to eyes that had so long gazed only on the boundless sea!

The missionaries had heard of the arrival of grandpa and grandma, and soon we were told there were callers below; so down we went. What a scene! enough to repay us for all our long journey. There were many whom we had known at our own house, but whom we never dreamed of seeing in their missionary home. Heart met heart then; some were so happy that they cried, and tears were in our own eyes too. Thirty-seven called that day, and we were very weary when night dropped her curtain. Saturday was the same,—callers all day.

The children of missionaries on these islands have formed an association among themselves which they call the "Cousin's Society." There was to be a meeting of this society on Saturday night at Oahu College, Punahou; so we all went, starting about dark. After driving up a winding carriage-road, there burst suddenly upon us a fairy scene. The principal building was low, with trees and vines about it, and it seemed one blaze of light. The rooms were decorated with exquisite flowers and ferns, and the young ladies and gentlemen were in their gala dresses. Forty "Cousins" were present that night. Grandpa made an address to them, after President Mills had welcomed us. They edit a paper in their society called the "Maile Wreath." Maile [My-le] is a beautiful vine that grows on the islands, and is often used for wreaths. We had some fine music that evening; for many of the "Cousins" sing and play beautifully. After we had been home awhile, about a dozen of these, on their return, stopped and serenaded us.

The next day was the Sabbath,—our first Sabbath in what used to be a heathen land. The church-bells rung just as sweetly as in our beloved America, and the same stillness reigned throughout the town. It was like a home Sabbath. What a change in forty-three years! We went to the mission-church in the morning. It is a large stone edifice of block coral, one hundred and forty-four feet long and seventy-eight wide, and was one of the first objects we saw after passing Diamond Head. It was commenced in 1838, and was five years in building, at a cost of about thirty thousand dollars. Just think of people, who, only twenty-five years before, were in the depths of heathen darkness, building such a church, and by voluntary contributions too! They had a public meeting, and the king subscribed three thousand dollars, and others gave their pledges until the sum reached six thousand dollars. We should think that doing very well in one of our own enlightened Christian assemblies. Notwithstanding their poverty, they subscribed willingly. We, with all our conveniences for building, can hardly realize the labor bestowed on that church. The timber had to be cut in the mountain forests, and dragged by hand down to the coast. The stone was dug out of the coral reefs, and a quantity of coral had to be gathered and burned for lime. All this the people did willingly, and without pay, and the carpenters and masons gave their work freely. It was done unto the Lord.

In that church, which will doubtless stand for ages, we met a large body of natives. Grandpa made a speech to them which Rev. Mr. Clark interpreted. The church was very full. The natives are fond of bright colors, and dress in red and yellow a great deal. The women's dresses are made just like yoke night-gowns, falling to the feet without being confined at the waist at all. The men often wear their shirts outside of their pantaloons like a sack, and sometimes a coat is put on above that, making the effect rather ludicrous. Bonnets the women wear of all kinds, but principally small ones of very old styles. These were perched on the very top of the head, and were sometimes trimmed with ribbons of five or six colors. In the afternoon we went to church again. The preacher was a blind native, Pohaku, and he preached so easily, naming the hymn and repeating it just as if he was reading it, that one would never imagine he was blind.

We shook hands with four or five hundred natives that day, saying "aloha," which means "love to you," "good-will," and is their common salutation. They crowded around us, and sometimes two would get hold of my hand at once. A hand would come over a shoulder, another under an elbow, and round unheard-of corners, all expressing joy and friendship.

But we must hear the rest of Honolulu to-morrow.