CHAPTER II.

THE TWO IRISH VILLAGES.

Lady Aberdeen's Work— Blarney Castle and the Village of Irish Industries— A Piece of the Genuine
Blarney Stone— Carter Harrison's Speech to the Girls From Belfast and Cork — Lace-Makers and
Weavers and Butter and Cheese Makers From the Land of No Snakes— Mrs. Peter White— Mrs.
Ernest Hart and Her Village— A Reproduction of Donegal Castle— Eighteen Celtic Lasses— Good
Irish Buttermilk —Irish Airs on Irish Pipes.

HERE were two sets of Hibernians with long-tailed coats at
the Donnebrook Fair, which accounts, we will say, for two
Irish villages on the Plaisance — Lady Aberdeen's and Mrs.
Hart's. The former is known as the "Village of Industries,"
or "Blarney Castle," and is very typical, for there are
weavers, lace-makers, butter and cheese makers, and a piece
of the Blarney stone and lots of pretty Irish girls, more kiss-
able, really, than the lucky stone in the castle, say what you
will. Lady Aberdeen's Irish village is situated on the south
side of the driveway, near the Jackson Park entrance. The
buildings form a hollow square; the low sloping thatched
roofs and the towering castle make a most interesting picture in themselves.

Many persons a day climb the long, winding stairway to' see the Blarney
stone and not a few to kiss it. It is set in a block of black marble, and is reached
by an iron balcony and over it is this verse:

This is the stone that whoever kisses
He never misses to grow eloquent;
A clever spouter he'll turn out or
An out- an- outer in parliament.

Blarney Castle is an exact reproduction of the massive donjon tower near
Cork, Ireland, built in the fifteenth century. It is said that the stone had not reached
the full zenith of talisimanic power until 1799, when Milliken wrote his well-known
song of "The Groves of Blarney." The tower is 120 feet high, and is well worth
the climb for the view alone. Then there are the cloisters of Muckross Abbey and
Tara Hall, which Tom Moore has immortalized. The cottages are so arranged
that one can pass from room to room throughout the whole village. In the long,
low apartments one sees the pretty Irish girls lace-making, knitting, embroidering
and darning, and carding and spinning with the old-fashioned wheel and looms.
High railings keep the crowd from the workers, who all dress in the picturesque
peasant costume of their home-life. The dairy maids in bewitching caps and
aprons are the personification of cleanliness and neatness. The interiors are

562

HISTORY OF THE WORLD'S FAIR.

typical of Ireland; low rooms, with great high benches ranged against the wall,
odd fireplaces and curious windows. At certain hours the pipers play in the court-
yard and the villagers dance, while a number of concerts are given daily in the
music hall by skilled harpists and vocalists brought over by Lady Aberdeen for
the express purpose. There are many souvenirs on sale, of course, in the shape of
Limerick and other laces, shillalehs, black-thorn articles, wood carving, bog or-
naments, Connemara marble, pressed shamrock and squares of real peat tied up
with green ribbons. There is also a genuine Irish jaunting car in connection with
the village, driven by a rollicking Hiberian with an "ilegant brogue," the whole for
hire to whoever cares to experience the novelty of a ride in such a vehicle. In the

BLARNEY CASTLE.

absence of Lady Aberdeen, who only remained for a short time, Mrs. Peter White,
a beautiful and lovely Irish woman, presided over Blarney Castle, and made many
friends by her womanly and bewitching manners.

The Blarney stone did. not arrive until June, and was not placed in position
until the iyth of that month. The stone in the Midway is not in the same position
in the reproduced castle as the stone is in the real structure. Instead of being out-
side and below the coping it is inside and on the roof where people who want to
kiss it are not in danger of breaking their neck.

"We want to make the kissing easy," said one of the Irish girls about the
village. "Over in the real castle the stone is outside and down below the coping.
People who kiss the stone over there have to be hung out by the heels or let down

HISTORY OF THE WORLD'S FAIR. 563

a rope. Some of them break their necks doing it, too. We don't want any of
that here, so we have the stone inside. We want to give people some easy reward
for climbing up those stairs."

This stone is a piece of the old Blarney stone. It is about a foot square and
Mayor Carter Harrison was the first to kiss the stone irr this country, and the effect
was magical. His honor talked with volubility and pleased the Irish lasses im-
mensely with his frequent compliments.

Mrs. Ernest Hart's Irish Village, or Donegal Castle, is on the north side of
the Plaisance. This village is not so elaborate or so striking as Lady Aberdeen's,
but there are lots of Irish industries, Irish cooking and Irish girls.

John Bright once said: "Ireland is idle, therefore she starves; Ireland starves,
therefore she rebels." Mrs. Hart's whole aim, as she declares, is that at least her
part of Ireland shall not be idle. Armed only with her untiring energies and a
warm letter to all from the archbishop of Armagh, primate of all Ireland, she left
her English home of luxury to help the poor.

Any one who has ever climbed the steep pass of Glen Esh and crossed the
seemingly endless bogs of Donegal into Carrick will have no difficulty in recogniz-
ing the buildings which Mrs. Hart has erected in the Plaisance. Entrance is had
through the far-famed gates of St. Lawrence, built in the thirteenth century. The
interior is a large court formed by cottages on each side and an exact reproduction
of old Donegal castle at the back. In the center all that landscape gardening can do
has been done to produce a unique effect. Around the edge of the walls runs a moat,
and on its edge is reared a tower 100 feet high copied after one of the famous
towers of the Emerald isle, the history of which is only a speculation of the anti-
quaries. Around these are planted old vines and clinging mosses which closely re-
semble the original article. In this court-yard are placed a number of old stones,
such as the pillar stone, Ogham hole stone and others closely connected with Ire-
land's early history.

"The first cottage," said Mrs. Hart, in describing the place, "is occupied by a
Gweedore girl who makes kell embroideries. This industry I found, and called it
so because many of the designs are taken of the old Celtic folk of 'Kells' and other
early manuscripts. This cottage, like all the others, is an exact reproduction of the
regular Donegal cottage where these home industries are daily carried on. The
visitor may see the villagers in their native dress, living in cottages, the pot hang-
ing on the fireplace, the cooking and the housewife work going on. All of my girls,
who number eighteen, are pure Celtic lassies. The next cottage is a carpenter-shop,
where the finer trades are shown, and I have a boy there who carves in wood the
drinking cups, or mether, as they are called- Here also are made the designs for the
Celtic crosses, and out there in the court-yard is a stone-mason who reproduces the
designs in stone which has been brought from Ireland for that purpose.

'In that cottage over the way more girls are at work on the famous Donegal
homespun. There whoever cares to may see the wool as it comes from the sheep's
back, see it washed, carded, dyed, spun into the threads for weaving by an
old-fashioned spinning wheel and woven into the cloth. I call it an old-fashioned

564

HISTORY OF THE WORLD'S FAIR.

spinning wheel because they know no other in the Irish homes and I sometimes
doubt if such fabric could be made on any other. In every one of these cottages I
reproduce exactly the same state of affairs that exist in Donegal, and if any one
imagines that they are too primative they have only to remember that the girls
and the work come from a place thirty-six miles from a railway in the very heart of
Ireland and show the work that is now going on in hundreds of cottages where a few
years ago all was idleness and poverty. If in my endeavor to show what good
work these struggling people can accomplish and extend the horizon of their com-
mercial sky I shall feel entirely satisfied with my task."

No attempt has been made to reproduce the interior of the castle, now a
ruin. The large space has been divided into two rooms. One is a lecture and concert
room, where during the summer Irish music is often given, and at stated times Mrs.
Hart and others lecture on the subject of fostering by benevolence home in-
dustries among the poor. In the larger room is displayed the work done by the
people. In none of the cottages are articles offered for sale. In the center of the
large room in the castle is the huge statue of Gladstone by Bruce Joy, the famous
sculptor and around the walls are hung portraits of famous Irishmen by well-known
Irish artists.

Adjoining the castle is the village smithy. All of the tools and the fittings of the
shop were brought over for the especial exhibit, showing just how the work is done
at home, A very interesting feature is the Irish piper. He is a direct descendant
of the MacSweenies of Donegal, at one time the most powerful of all the Celtic
clans, and at regular times he plays old native airs on the pipes.

HISTORY OF THE WORLD'S FAIR. 565,

CHAPTER HI.

THE JAVANESE AND SOUTH SEA ISLANDERS.

The Quaint Buildings of the Javanese a Great Resort— Everything as Neat as a Pin — More Than One
Hundred People — And Such Tea and Coffee — Personal Appearance of the Javanese — Their Bam-
boo Dwellings— The Javanese Theater and Orchestra — Ten Attractive Dancing Girls From Solo
— "Klass" and His Peculiarities — The South Sea Islanders— A Great Exhibit— Cannibal and War
Dances.

HE Javanese village in the Midway Plaisance with its many
quaint buildings of bamboo and still quainter natives, is one of
the most genuine exhibits at the World's Fair. In its entire
conception and down to the most minute detail, it has a fidel-
ity to nature that makes many a traveler think himself in a far-
off tropical island. This is undoubtedly due to the fact that it
is the exhibit of the Java planters association and was entirely
built by Javanese workmen of Javanese material. The plant
being Dutch, they owning the entire commercial interests of
Java, everything was done with the thoroughness that charac-
terizes them in all they do. Famed the world over for its cof-
fees, little is known here of Java teas, though they have already a high reputation
in Europe because of their purity, strength and flavor, the soil and climate of Java
being peculiarly adapted to the tea plant. There are forty grades of Javanese tea
exhibited, the difference being in curing. The choicest is of young leaves picked in
the early morning while the dew is still on them, and is very expensive. The high
medium grade consists of these choice leaves and the next lower grade, is what they
are serving at the tea house. This tea, which the Planters' Association is introduc-
ing here, is, like all Javanese teas, uncolored, for though they can easily make the
green teas they will not do it because of their unhealthfulness, and it takes but two-
thirds as much for a drawing as Chinese tea, more spoiling the fine flavor.

The tea served is from Sinajar, the largest plantation in Java, consisting of
5,000 acres, owned by E. J. Kerkhoven, who alone exported 1,000,000 pounds last
year, and "Parakansolak," the plantation of G. Mundt who, with Mr. Kerkhovem
controls almost the entire tea product of Java.

Few people visit the Plaisance that do not inspect the Javanese village. It
is as neat as a pin and its tea and coffee houses and theatre are the choicest on the
Plaisance. It needs but a stroll through the village, to realize what beauties are to be
seen. Nothing can be more perfectly entrancing to the female mind than to see a
Characteristic little family group seated upon the veranda of a bamboo house, in the

566 HISTORY OF THE WORLD'S FAIR.

cool of the evening, enjoying the common meal. "How perfectly cute!" they say,
as they watch a little brown-skinned mite of a child poking its tiny fingers into the
common bowl of rice, and "cooing" with all the pleasure of an infant as it succeeds
in catching a morsel of the toothsome food. It is a source of infinite pleasure, too,
to some women visitors to watch the mothers playing with their children in all the
abandon of a free and untrammeled race.

Bright red prevailed for the women's shoulder coverings. All wore the re-
markable garment of the Javanese, which is made of a single piece of cloth wrapped
around the body, and extending from the waist to their feet. Under the hot sun of
Java this would have completed their attire, but protection against the March winds
of the temperate zone required more covering. For the men this consisted of an
old stock of trousers picked up somewhere at a bargain sale. They belonged to
various pantaloon eras, ranging ftom the one when that garment was skin tight to
the other extreme when flour sacks were the model. Coats of the same wide range
of fashion had been found somewhere. But native instinct was superior to the garb
of the more civilized races, for while the clothing of the latter had been put on the
indefinable garment or sheet was wrapped around them still.

The Javanese women resemble the Japanese to an extent, except that the
latter have lighter complexions. The expression, however, was alike in both.

Not so with the men. They had a far more stolid look than have the Japan-
ese. They were darker and their lips were thicker. The keen intelligence which
shows itself in the face of the Yankee of the East when in conversation, was absent
from the countenances of the Javanese.

A man taller than his companions, with a much stronger cast of features,
came last in the curious procession from the train. His hat was broad enough to
shed an April shower and sloped down from the crown like the roof of his bamboo
home. He walked with a stride and never glanced at the gaping throng. Twice
had this man been to the shrine at Mecca. He bore the proud title of Hadji among
the heathen Christian dogs. This man thought himself a pretty big fellow — any
one could see that. He was brought along to attend to the religious welfare of his
people.

When they become tired. of work — which is about three times a week — he has
a vision. Translated to the followers of the Prophet this vision is that unless they
work and do what the officers of the Oceanic Trading company tell them to do some
frightful calamity will befall their friends and relatives left in Java.

Of the 125, thirty-six are women. The dancing girls number ten. In their
native tongue they are called serimpis, which means they are dancers who appear
only before the Sultan at the Court of Solo.

At the Exposition they appear in their court dress. What they do is really
more posing than dancing. The men are divided among the various crafts of the
Javanese, and in their village during the Fair they are engaged in many curious
occupations. There is one native chief among them whose name is Raden Adnin.
He is distinguished by a large white hat of about the same size as that worn by the

HISTORY OF THE WORLD'S FAIR. 567"

priest. It is so large that when he enters the door he has to take it off for fear of
breaking it against the casings.

The Dutch East Indies exhibit, of which the Javanese village forms a part
occupies five and one-half acres on the Plaisance.

This is not the first time that the Javanese have visited world's fairs.
A number of dancing girls from the Emperor's court at Solo were taken in the
village which was sent to Paris in 1889. The girls became so giddy among the gay
Parisians that the Emperor was highly displeased when they returned, and it was
only with the utmost difficulty that he gave his consent to having any brought to
Chicago- None of those who went to Paris were allowed to come to Chicago.

All the houses of the village were built in Java, and left standing until the
ship was ready to sail. There were not less than twenty-five of them built for
the Exposition.

The imagery of Oriental poetry has given to Java the name of "The Pearl
of the East." The village is a little Java in itself. There is the same tropical
vegetation, broad-leaved palms and willowy bamboos, the same curious huts, stand-
ing above the ground on stilt-like legs; and the people themselves, with all their
peculiarities of language and dress, strange habits and customs.

The Javanese village is populated by a crowd of pretty dames and stalwart
tnen, who amuse, instruct and edify the American, and load him with souvenirs of
the Fair, certainly at some cost to his pocket, but also greatly to the benefit of his
knowledge of his fellow men.

Nominally Java's 22,000,000 people are ruled by native sovereigns, but
practically it is a depen dency of Holland, the Dutch having held a master-hand in
the island for two centuries.

The personal appearance of the Javanese, as befits a peaceful, agricultural
people, is pleasing. They are small in stature, well-shaped, gracefully slender and
erect in figure. Fashion demands long hair, and among the upper classes a bright
brown complexion, bordering on golden yellow, is the rule- The women are pretty
and at all times gentle and obliging. In a country where the earth poduces freely
almost all the necessaries of life the people are naturally an easy-going, good-
natured race, and inclined a little to indolence. When a Java villager grows more
than unusally lazy a tornado lifts his house off the ground, or a volcano bursts like
a boiler, and sets him to work repairing damages. When the volcanic isle of
Krakatoa suffered an upheaval in August, 1883, some 30,000 Javanese were placed
beyond the possibilities either of repair or reformation.

The majority of the huts in which the World's Fair villagers live consist of
simple bamboo structures, containing two or three rooms and surrounded by a
verandah. They are windowless and thatched with sago palm trees.

Within, the furniture is simple. A springy bamboo bed and a few mats and
pillows are sufficient for the lower classes, but the chiefs find place for a few articles
of European make. The houses are surrounded by a fence and generally half-con-
cealed by masses of vegetation. A man who desires to eat in a Java hut will take
his food from a wooden tray at the expense of his fingers, squatting the while on

568 HISTORY OF THE WORLD'S FAIR.

the floor. He may get dried ox, deer, goat, or buffalo meat, but rice with curry and
cayenne pepper must be the principal dish, with white tree-grubs as a relish.

The first object of the men who introduce Java to Jackson Park is to improve
the commercial relations between the two countries and induce trade,which has
hitherto taken a circuitous route through Holland and England to follow a more
natural and direct course. The coffee plantations of Java are their most pro-
lific source of trade with foreign countries. The land, however, yields excellent
crops of rice, tobacco, sugar and some cotton. The manufactures of the country
are few and simple. The natives are very skilful in weaving and dyeing cloth for
their own use. The man who can forge and temper the blade of the deadly "kri,"
the weapon universally carried by the natives, is sure of a good living. On the
coast, fishing and curing occupy the time of a large proportion of the population.
The weavers, goldsmiths and silversmiths are all seen at work at the Fair.

The Javanese theater is built entirely of bamboo, with a flat floor, and is
thatched like the cottages. On each side is a curtain which is roofed lower than
the main ceiling. It seats i ,000 people, and from each corner on the outside ex-
tends long curved palm poles which look like the tentacles on the butterfly's head.
The walls inside and out are covered with split bamboo matting painted in squares.
The stage is a four-decked affair. That part which is used by the performers is
three feet from the floor, extends entirely across the building and is nine feet deep
Back of this are three smaller stages, each three feet higher than the other, and are
occupied by the musicians. There are no wings to the stage. The performers
enter from the back, the three smaller stages being cut off at one end to make a
narrow passageway.

A Javenese orchestra is a thing to be wondered at. Nothing like it can
be seen in the Midway Plaisance. It consists of twenty-four pieces and the names
by which some of them are called would tax the powers of a loquacious American
commercial traveler for a music instrument house. Here are some of them.
Djenglonglentik, bonanggedch, sarongpekinlentik and kenongpaninga.

The peculiar thing about the orchestra is that it has only one wind instru-
ment and one string instrument. The string instrument is a two-stringed violin
and is played by the leader, who sits in the center of the first stage. The violin
sits upright in a frame and is played like a cello. The wind instrument is a small
bamboo pipe, which makes a sound not unlike a flute. The other pieces are gongs
and metal and wood exonophones. The gongs range from huge copper disks,
four feet in diameter, down to brass affairs the size of a saucer. They are placed
on blue and gilt frames and are struck with soft hammers.

After running the gauntlet of barbaric discord that passes for music in most
of the Plaisance theaters, it is a pleasure to hear the harmony of the Javanese band
with its suggestion of soft chimes. The deeper-toned gongs, the purling notes of
the instruments that carry the upper notes, produce a combination of
unexpected sweetness. Even the ardent worshiper of Wagner would
enjoy the grave-faced musicians and their productions. The author
was present at the first performance. The first piece on the rehearsal program

HISTORY OF 'THE WORLD'S FAIR. 569

bore an unpronounceable title and a strange resemblance to the German master's
"Die Walkure." It has been played in Java for nearly 400 years, and it is one of
the best compositions by native composers.

The advent of the dancing girls was heralded by a long roll on the gongs,
which increased in tone until the center of the stage was reached. Then the music
changed to a strain as graceful as a Strauss waltz. The girls were barefooted and
bareheaded and dressed in bright colors. Each carried a sash, which she waved
about as the dance progressed.

There is something poetic about the movement, which is not unlike the
Spanish dances. One after another danced, and they entered into it with a zest
which showed that they enjoyed the rehearsal.

After the dancing several of the actors rehearsed one of the regular dramas
which is played daily. It is a historical piece. None of the actors speaks a word.
It is all spoken by one man who stands at one side while the actors pantomime his
words. The dresses are very singular and some of them are grotesque. All wear
leather helmets of red and gold. The lower dress is the ordinary street costume.
Wings of leather, gaily decorated, are worn and the face is covered with a wooden
mask. The masks are not tied on but are held in place by a bit of leather fastened
to the inside and held in the teeth. If an actor opened his mouth to articulate the
mask would drop off.

Mr. Mundt said one day: "All of the native clothing of Java is made in this
fashion. If you will but notice the cloth and see how delicately the colors and tints
are blended you can form some idea of the care required in placing the cloth on the
matrix, for it is all gauged by the hand and eye. It is little wonder that the women
become rather aged before they are expert.

"Our exhibits include all the products of the entire Malayan archipelago, as
well as the manufactured goods. We show brass and reed musical instruments, na-
tive weapons, palm leaves for cigarette wrappers, rice spoons, insects, all of our
spices, silver and gold filigree work and large quantities of our tea and coffee. We
also show how we make fires without matches, and many other things."

Perhaps the greatest attraction at the Javanese village is "Klaas." Kl'aas is
an orang-outang and the only one in captivity. He is owned by Mr. Mundt of the
Java exhibit and is the pet of the entire village. He is 2}^ years old and weighs
140 pounds. He was born in the Bataak district of Sumatra, where the natives still
indulge in holiday feasts off white strangers, and, when that source fails, eat each
other with an occasional flavoring of orang-outang. The impressions Klaas re-
ceived in early life still remain with him, and, once in awhile, when some particularly
choice little boy comes near him, he shows his teeth and smacks his lips. Klaas'
lips take up the best part of his face. His eyes, nose, ears and forehead are very
small and lips predominate.

The first thing he did when he got into the cage prepared for him was to
stand still and look around. It pleased him and he laughed heartily, stuck his arm
through the bars and shook hands with Mr. Kirkhooven. Klaas' laugh is a study
in noise. First he throws his head back until it touches his spine; the chin is dropped

570 HISTORY OF THE WORLD'S FAIR.

to the breast bone and the sound emitted is enough to make the steam siren
on Machinery hall feel like going out of the business. There are two crossbars in
the big cage and a branched section of a tree. Klaas started in to inpect these while
the Javanese watched him. He climbed to the top, hung on to the bars, put a long
arm out and got hold of a branch from a neighboring tree. He broke off a small
limb before he could be stopped and dragged it into the cage. An unavailing at-
tempt was made to get it away from him. Klaas knew his business and was not
going to be interfered with. He stripped the leaves from the branch, bent it over
the trapeze and caught the two ends in his mouth. One foot grasped the trapeze,
the arms were folded and the orang-outang enjoyed a swing such as his father en-
joyed on the tree tops in Sumatra before the cannibals got him.

While the orang-outang was enjoying himself a blonde young man with a pad
and pencil made a sketch of him. Feeling sure that his artistic excellence would
call forth some recognition even from an orang-outang the artist handed the sketch
through the bars. Klaas received it, put it on the floor of his cage, spread it out
with his hands and gazed first at the picture, then at the artist. Finally he put the
top of his head on the paper and when he lifted his face it was covered with a piti-
ful smile. He handed the paper back to the sketch artist with a get-a-camera look.
The condemnation of the work would have pleased a believer in the Darwinian
theory of evolution. The artist took it to heart and went away and the Javanese
looked sorrowful and scolded Klaas for his discourtesy and lack of artistic appreci-
ation.

The scolding put his orang-outang, highness in a bad humor and Mr. Mundt
gave him some apples to pacify him. He could have easily have put the whole of a
pomological specimen in his mouth at once, but he took small bites at a time and
after each bite wiped off his expansive lips with the back of his hairy hand. The
apples disposed of, a basin of water was put in the cage and a piece of soap handed
between the bars. Down he sat before the basin like an Egyptian drummer before
his tomtom. After wetting his hands he took the soap and scrubbed them. The
same performance was repeated on his face. He got some of the soap in his eye and
hopped around like an Irish cottager at a cross-roads dance and emitted an Alge-
rian yell. A towel was handed him. He tore it in two and with a piece in each
hand dried his face and smiled.

Civilization has given Klaas the cigarette habit. He would rather smoke
cigarettes than eat terrapin a la Maryland. A cigarette was handed him after his
bath. It was not one of the ordinary wheeze-producing, death-dealing kind in
white paper. Klaas draws the line against those. It was a Javanese affair made
out of a great deal of palm bark and very little tobacco. He took it between his
thumb and finger daintily and held out the other hand for a light. A lighted
American cigarette was reached out to him, but he would have none of it. Match
or nothing with Klaas. He got one, turned so the wind would be on his back,
and lighted the cigarette. The end of the cigarette is very small, and it took
up about as much space on his lips as the whaleback steamer does in Lake Mich-
igan, but he managed to blow smoke deliberately into the face of the artist,

HISTORY OF THE WORLD'S FAIR. 571

•who had been induced to come back and try again. Except when he is smok-
ing Klaas is never quiet for a moment, and as a contortionist is entitled to a gold
medal. As a rule his hold on the bars is sure, but when he does slip and fall he has
a way of lighting on his shoulders perfectly limp, and after his tumble he invariably
laughs at his own awkwardness. A railing has been put around the cage to keep
visitors from getting to near. Klaas has a mania for shaking hands, and with a
never-let-go grip. By nature the feet can be used for the same purpose and when
Klaas gets hold of a visitor's hands the odds are two to one in favor of the orang-
outang.

Across the street from the bamboo fence of the little people from Java is the
colony of South Sea Islanders. No more unlike people than these near neigh-
bors are to be seen in the Midway. The Samoans are big fellows, of stout build,
yellow in color. The Javanese are small, angular, and of bronze color. They build
houses, have wares of their own manufacture to sell, and are sociable. The Samo-
ans do nothing but sing and dance about war. They dress for the stage in breech-
clouts of cocoanut cloth with bunches of the same and of sea grass fastened about
the loins and standing out like short and stiffly starched skirts. For lazy-looking
people the Samoans get a great deal of life into their dances. Their plump limbs
and bodies glisten with perspiration as they jump and stamp. Their naked feet
come down upon the stage in perfect time with tremendous slaps. Their "ailann,"
an old Samoan war dance, is done with war clubs which look like short paddles.
They swing these first to the right, and then to the left, and bring them down on
the soles of the feet with a resounding thwack. The "pater" is another Samoan
dance. A song goes with it, and the words are so old that the present singers do
not know what they mean. Each stanza ends with a cheer. The Samoans dance
to their singing. The rest of the music is simply drumming on logs of wood. In
one of the dances the islanders accompany the feet movements with hand clapping.
In another they sit cross-legged on the floor and raise themselves half-way and
lower themselves again in time with the chant.

Next to the Javanese, the Samoans are the best-looking people on the Mid-
way. They introduce more variety than any of the others into their dancing.
Their pantomime is wonderfully good.

The Samoans boast of being the oldest inhabitants of the South Seas. The
dances they give are so many chapters of their ancient life. A thousand years ago
their Fijian ancestors danced in just this way. The chants recite the various
phases of life and war. The dancing is the pantomime which naturally goes with
it. The most notable dance tells of the departure from home of an expedition.
The movement of the boats, the throwing of lances, the rush through the waves,
the clash of battle, the mourning for the dead, are all told in the song and the
dancing.

The Samoans may be seen six times daily in imitations of war dances and
drills. The author visited the Samoans upon one of their gala days in June, and
saw about as happy a crowd of South Sea Islanders as has ever existed. They
had plenty of kava to drink; they were permitted the luxury of greasing themselves

572 HISTORY OF THE WORLD'S FAIR.

from head to foot, until they shone as bright as so many burnished copper statues;
they shed American clothing and got down to the simple but comfortable toggery
of Samoa, all but the women, who modestly wore waists of colored cloth made
from bark; and then they danced and sang as they do on starry nights under the
beautiful cross of the southern skies.

It was plain to be seen early in the day that something of more than or-
dinary import was stirring the inhabitants of the Samoan village. The big mus-
cular fellows were in the buff to the waist, and they dodged from building to build-
ing in a mysterious manner. The women were squatted on the ground in Mataafi's
thatched palace grinding kava and making the great national drink as though for
an important ceremonial. Everywhere there was an excited jabber in the village
like the chattering of a lot of magpies.

Kava is made from the root of a pepper tree. It is ground by the women
on a rude grater into a flour, which is thrown into an iron dish filled with water.
It is allowed to stand long enough for the root to impart its flavor to the water.
Then the pulpy mass is put jnto a piece of bark, which acts as a strainer, and the
maker twists it as though wringing a towel. All the water is thus squeezed out,
and the solid substance remains. Kava is about as intoxicating as mild beer. The
Samoans love it dearly, and think it quite as indispensable as the German does his
beer. It is particularly abundant during their pagan ceremonies.

In the afternoon the South Sea Islanders gave some of their dances. The
men wore rude kilts made of the bark of the paper mulberry tree. The bark is
beaten out until it looks like sheets of paper, when it is dyed in bright colors.
From the waist hung grasses and fuzzy garnitures of cloth. From the loins up, and
from the knees down the men were naked and greasy. The women were similarly
attired, except that they made the one concession to American taste of wearing red
bodices to their bark paper gowns. Many of the performers wore high paper caps,
which may have escaped from the bonbon favors of a fashionable Chicago German.

Their first effort was a mild war dance in which they used a la-au. The la-au
is a wooden affair that might be taken for a paddle or a broken spear. It is neither,
because it is simply a dancing club. The dancers sing a wild chant, slap the blades
of their la-aus, jump on the floor with a thud that shakes the building, look fierce,
and send yells of defiance after an imaginary enemy. Their second effort was a
drill and the company responded by jabbing holes into the air and whirling the
la-aus after the manner of white men who give bayonet drills.

In the cannibal dance, which the Samoans borrowed from the Fiji Islanders,
the big blacks sat on their haunches with their backs to the audience. They set up
a weird droning, and marked the time by clapping their hands. They hopped high
into the air and swayed backward nearly to the floor. They faced the audience
with a nervous jump and twisted their countenances into ferocious contortions.
They went into convulsions that threatened to unjoint their bodies, but through it
all they kept up the droning, which was a song recounting the incidents of the'"?
supposed fight.

HISTORY OF THE WORLD'S FAIR. 573

Men and women joined in a Samoan dance of rejoicing. They sat cross-
legged, slapped their knees and clapped their hands. One of the women sang an
air in a not displeasing soprano, the others sang in concert, little wooden drums
beat the time, and the knees went flippity-flop in sympathy with the rhythm. The
whole troupe jumped to its feet, hopped about in a circle, clapped its hands and
engaged in what sounded very much like a responsive song service. Then every-
body strolled out to Mataafi's house, squatted on the mats, and drank kava.

In front of the entrance is erected a Samoan house. It is the property of
Mataafa, the deposed ruler. It was brought from the little settlement of Malie,
several miles from Apia, and is most wonderfully constructed. In shape it is cir-
cular. It is upright to the height of five feet and then slopes to a tent-like point
thirty feet above the ground. It is made entirely of bread-fruit wood, the only
wood that the white ants, which overrun the island, will not eat. A house built by
any other material would be eaten up in a month by the pests. The uprights are
made of pieces about four inches in diameter. At intervals of four feet a circle
is made of the same material. The pieces of wood are all short and are jointed
and bound together by thongs. The roofing is made of twigs and covered with
thatch. The house was used by Mataafa and his father and is said to be very old.

The home dress of these people is very scanty. It consists of nothing more
than a wide strip of tapa cloth about the loins. Tapa is made by the natives and is
a product of the bark of the mulberry tree. Strips of the bark \Yz inches thich, 2
feet long and 4 inches wide are stripped from the tree. These are taken to the
river, where women and girls subject them to a crude process of tanning by soaking
the bark in water. It is then placed on a malili wood board and the surface scraped
by a rough shell, leaving the inner bark. This leaves it a pulpy substance. The
small strips are overlapped and the edges pounded together until a piece is made
the required size. To color the cloth in designs a die is made of a half-oval board
of pau wood, over which colors made of native barks and roots have been smeared.
The prepared cloth is spread over this and the print is made. All kinds of designs
are used and the drawing is very crude, but the printing is done with geometric ac-
curacy, although the eye only is used.

The village is under the control of H. J. Moores of Apia, who is the con-
fidant of Mataafa and who will in all probability be his prime minister if he returns
to power at the next election.

HISTORY OF THE WORLD'S FAIR. 575