There were a couple of delicate, olive-cheeked little
girls - twins - with mild eyes and beautiful hair, who ran about the
house, half-naked, like a couple of gazelles.
They had a brother,
somewhat younger - a fine dark boy, with an eye like a woman's. All
these were the children of Po-Po, begotten in lawful wedlock.
Then there were two or three queer-looking old ladies, who wore shabby
mantles of soiled sheeting, which fitted so badly, and withal had
such a second-hand look that I at once put their wearers down as
domestic paupers - poor relations, supported by the bounty of My Lady
Arfretee. They were sad, meek old bodies; said little and ate less;
and either kept their eyes on the ground, or lifted them up
deferentially. The semi-civilization of the island must have had
something to do with making them what they were.
I had almost forgotten Monee, the grinning old man who prepared our
meal. His head was a shining, bald globe. He had a round little
paunch, and legs like a cat. He was Po-Po's factotum - cook, butler,
and climber of the bread-fruit and cocoa-nut trees; and, added to all
else, a mighty favourite with his mistress; with whom he would sit
smoking and gossiping by the hour.
Often you saw the indefatigable Monee working away at a great rate;
then dropping his employment all at once - never mind what - run off to
a little distance, and after rolling himself away in a corner and
taking a nap, jump up again, and fall to with fresh vigour.
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