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BEACH-LA-MAR 
 
 THE JARGON OR TRADE SPEECH OF THE 
 WESTERN PACIFIC 
 
 BY 
 WILLIAM CHURCHILL 
 
 Sometime Consul-General of the United States in Samoa and Tonga, 
 
 Member of the Polynesian Society, the Hawaiian Historical 
 
 Society, the American Philological Association 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 THE CARNEGIE INSTITUTION OF WASHINGTON 
 1911 £ X 
 
 Fs 
 
CARNEGIE INSTITUTION OF WASHINGTON 
 Publication No. 154 
 
 PRBSS OF GIBSON BROS.. 
 WASHINGTON, D. C. 
 
BEACH-LA-MAR 
 
 THE JARGON OR TRADE SPEECH OF THE 
 ' WESTERN PACIFIC 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 PARENTAGE OF THE JARGON. 
 
 Jargon is the speech of necessity. It is like its mother in that it 
 knows not the law by which it is rigidly governed. 
 
 A jargon is a speech of chips and fragments seized wherever found 
 and used to such end as may be accomplished by brute force of sheer 
 insistence. Because its origin lies in the need of simple men for the 
 communication of a selection of their most simple ideas a jargon is 
 rude, it is vivid, it is picturesque. Not only does it avail to show us 
 to what lowest terms a superior speech may be reduced and yet serve 
 as language, but it affords us a valuable insight into the machinery 
 and method of the language of the more primal type which stands 
 as the party of the second part in every such speech. 
 
 For each jargon has grown into being as the speech of the marches, 
 the language of the borderland. 
 
 By this we do not mean the bilingual zone which exists along 
 political boundary lines where empires of two speech families come 
 together and evade the sentry and the customs officer in a friendly 
 smuggling. Where a jargon arises and attains currency there must 
 be a marked distinction in the cultural and in the intellectual planes 
 of the two languages which march together. This speech osmosis 
 is most active in the case where the relatively inferior man of the 
 superior speech and culture is brought in small numbers into contact 
 with larger masses of folk of the lower development but of more 
 consistent average attainment to the maximum of that development. 
 In other words, we are to note that the savage maintains much the 
 higher average; no member of such a community falls so far short as 
 to be regarded as ignorant by his fellows. Under usual social condi- 
 tions this contrast of two cultures out of which jargon tends most 
 readily to come into being is most commonly attained by the contact 
 of our sailors with the savage or imperfectly civilized communities. 
 
 In such cases it is well to bear in mind the classic of the scrivener — 
 it is the party of the first part who doth grant, assign and convey; it 
 is the party of the second part who most doth have and hold. Our 
 sailor party of the first part is of the unlettered class, he has no illu- 
 sions about the niceties of language, his speech is not nice at all. An 
 
^ BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 inflection, a shade of meaning, a canon of grammar — he is perfectly 
 ready to sacrifice them all if only he may succeed in making himself 
 in some sort comprehended. Placed in the same situation the phil- 
 ologist, the amateur of the preciosity of speech, would be dead in the 
 misunderstanding in about the time that it would take the sailor to 
 establish a thriving business on the beach in which iron nails serve 
 each as price for a log of sandalwood worth its weight in silver. 
 Under this stimulation — and beads are good trade, too — the savage 
 is avid to acquire the sailor's speech and to teach his own. Thus 
 jargon best, most commonly, begins. 
 
 Of the jargons, artificial yet valuable languages, we list the follow- 
 ing as among the most conspicuous examples. 
 
 First in order of time, and on a Latin base, was the Lingua Franca 
 of the Venetians and Genovese in the Levant, when those Italian 
 ports served empires of commerce. By an odd portage among the 
 crews of the adventurous fleets of Prince Henry the Navigator, the 
 Portuguese (Portingales in the speech of their English rivals) carried 
 this jargon to the Malay seas, where it underwent new growth in the 
 admixture of Indonesian elements and lives in ready currency. 
 
 Next arose the trade language of the tfeaty ports of China, the 
 still existing Pidgin. Here the base is English. The conditions under 
 which it came into being are beautifully typical. The English were 
 not of that order of mind which might set itself to the task of acquir- 
 ing the highly cultivated language of the Middle Kingdom; nor on 
 the terms of their scantily tolerated residence at a few mean points, 
 whose infamy was notorious matter of local knowledge, did they 
 have the time to engage upon such study. Scorning the inferior 
 foreign culture which was so lacking in the dignity of courtesy, the 
 Chinese were disposed to acquire only so much of the new language 
 as might serve them in business, and a sympathy which can see 
 beneath the unruffled calm of Chinese benignity will have no diffi- 
 culty in discerning the pleasures of disdain with which consciously 
 they mutilated the English speech and when they charily added a 
 word or two of their own were sedulous to draw it from the polluted 
 speech of the most ignoble classes. 
 
 Of about the same period, but on the other shore of the Pacific, we 
 next note the Chinook, the jargon of the fur trade, of the sailors upon 
 the sea and the no less adventurous voyageurs du bois. Here the 
 conditions were somewhat different; the fur- trader usually estab- 
 lished himself in approximately permanent relations with some 
 nomadic community of Indians and accompanied them in their wan- 
 derings over somewhat well delimited territory. For this reason the 
 great mass of this jargon is derived from several Indian languages- 
 each, however, subjected to the typical and necessary mutilation. 
 The external element is fairly divisible between an English and a 
 
PARENTAGE OF THE JARGON. 3 
 
 French source, for if the Astoria trappers were users of English the 
 rangers of the Hudson's Bay Company were preponderantly French 
 or Breeds. As showing that the importance of jargon study was early 
 recognized, we may note in passing that among the earliest of the 
 publications of the Smithsonian Institution in its youth was the 
 Gibbs dictionary of Chinook. 
 
 Our next example in chronological order is the Beach-la-mar 
 jargon of the southern and western Pacific islands with a certain 
 extension to the nearest littoral of Australia. It is this which is to 
 engage our attention in this study and may therefore be postponed 
 in this summary schedule. 
 
 In the Guianas the Negro English, a magma of an already jar- 
 goned mass from various African sources, now mingled with English 
 and other European material, has been in such use that it has 
 advanced toward respectability: the Scriptures have been printed 
 in the language. 
 
 Within thirty years a wonderful expansion has taken place in a 
 jargon on the west coast of Africa, the Krooboy. The base of this is 
 English, but fragments have been caught up from many sources, 
 African and European, along a thousand leagues of Gold Coast, 
 Ivory Coast, Palm Coast. The spread of this new and rapidly grow- 
 ing jargon is due to the fact that merchant vessels find it economi- 
 cally advantageous to supplement their crews with drafts of Kroomen 
 for the heavy work of handling cargo on unwholesome beaches. 
 
 It would not be pertinent to the present topic to essay the making 
 of a complete list of these languages, lusty in spite of the bend sinister. 
 We might readily add the Gombo and the Cajun of Louisiana, the 
 batard French of Haiti, the Papimiento and other mixed tongues of 
 the West Indies, much of the Spanish of Mexico and of the Eatin 
 republics. The few which have been presented with a brief note in 
 the foregoing paragraphs have been introduced solely for the purpose 
 of showing that jargons have a respectable history and that in the 
 present time the actuating causes are still potent to create new 
 jargons when the conditions are meet. 
 
 Our present study shall be directed upon the Beach-la-mar, a 
 jargon of wide extent but of scanty record; for it has come to its 
 growth in a plane far below that in which interest in speech for itself 
 becomes active. Thus it has lacked its historian, its records are 
 scattered through a few books of travel in the South Sea whensoever 
 the crudities of its diction have seemed to the recorder sufficiently 
 droll to add a comic touch to descriptive pages. Even of record of 
 such sort we find but a brief collection, as will be shown in the notes 
 and bibliography following the vocabulary of this treatise. 
 
 There seems no limit to the life of the spoken word; anything 
 which pretends to be speech lives on and on and may appear long 
 
4 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 after and far away. While this sketch of the Beach-la-mar was taking 
 shape the jargon phraseology was reproduced on the witness stand 
 in the New York Supreme Court. The witness had solemnly averred 
 that King Johnson of a Solomon island "has been going to col- 
 lege for forty years and he can read and write as well as any one 
 aboard ship." The statement lacks verisimilitude, but no such 
 default attaches to the further testimony of the witness that this 
 savage monarch addressed him in the following terms : " I,ong fellow 
 man he come ashore, he tell me plenty yarn." 
 
 The name of this jargon gives us some clew to its place and time 
 and manner of origin. Beach-la-mar is the common sailor mispro- 
 nunciation of beche-de-mer, a name applied to the edible trepang, 
 which, as a delicacy to palates sufficiently acute to enjoy the niceties 
 of its faint flavor, fetches a high price in the Chinese markets. At 
 the time of the beginning of the commercial exploitation of the 
 islands of the South Pacific the reefs and lagoon shallows in these 
 archipelagoes, more particularly from Fiji along the chains of islands 
 of the Western Pacific, abounded in these holothurians. Now, 
 although the demand remains as great as ever, these reefs are unpro- 
 ductive; they have been fished bare in the absence of a reasonable 
 system of protection of this sluggish game. It is only in Fiji, with 
 its recent British government, that any attempt has been made to 
 restore the depleted waters and under proper supervision to provide 
 a source of revenue for the islanders. 
 
 The manner of the first commercial exploitation of the islands we 
 shall find germane to the consideration of the genesis of the mixed 
 speech which grew out therefrom. The great voyages of European 
 explorers, bent upon the discovery of the secrets of the Pacific, 
 reached their period of greatest activity in the middle and in the 
 latter half of the eighteenth century. Voyages there had been before 
 that. Gaetano found the eight islands of the Hawaiian group and 
 left no record save a few names dotted on his chart of the way of the 
 Manila galleon upon the sea. Quiros and Mendana sailed for the 
 gold of Ophir in the Solomon Islands; they even colonized in the 
 northern bay of Espiritu Santo the half-mythical city of a New 
 Jerusalem at the mouth of a River Jordan; but their work lacked 
 permanence in itself and made no appeal to other adventurers. In 
 like manner the exploration of the Pacific did not cease with Cook 
 and Vancouver. In the early years of the nineteenth century no less 
 lustre was shed by the voyages of the unfortunate La Perouse and of 
 Dumont d'Urville. That century was more than a generation old 
 when Wilkes cleared up the secrets which had escaped the zeal of the 
 lohg line of his glorious predecessors. 
 
 Upon the track of these many voyages of scientific geography 
 flocked fleets of commercial geographers, merchant seamen intent 
 
PARENTAGE OF THE JARGON. 5 
 
 upon a lading and a market. First of these came the whalers, three 
 years the normal term of their voyages from the southern ice cap to 
 the gelid barriers of the north and searching all the warm parallels 
 of the equatorial seas between these frozen extremes, their prey the 
 right whale and the cachalot. How they crowded these waters after 
 exploration had opened the hidden secrets may be seen in one of the 
 dashing exploits of not the least of those captains courageous who 
 made the American navy great when it was a fleet of wood and snowy 
 canvas and stout hearts: Commodore David Porter cut himself 
 loose from orders, drove the Essex around Cape Horn, harried the 
 Pacific until he had driven off all the Dundee whalemen. Before his 
 work was done he was flag officer of a squadron of prizes armed to 
 fight with him so deep in its draft upon his wardroom country that 
 David Glasgow Farragut was in command of a fighting ship while 
 yet he was a midshipmite.* How long the whaling industry con- 
 tinued at a profit in these remote seas may be estimated from the 
 fact that, in his exhaustive studies of log books from the Pacific, 
 Matthew Fontaine Maury found the data from which to compile a 
 chart of the whales known to frequent those waters, and, even before 
 they had sailed from Fairhaven, from Nantucket or the Vineyard, 
 thus to direct the eager hunters to the most profitable feeding- 
 grounds. This was as late as the years just preceding the war in 
 which the call of his native State drew this great Virginian from the 
 science of oceanography, which he had discovered, and wasted him 
 in the clash of arms. 
 
 To any one familiar with the sea under conditions of voyaging 
 where the hand is prompt to throw the spoke to meet the flicker of 
 the after leach of some sail far aloft, it will be readily comprehensible 
 that in the whaling fleet we are to find little of the beginnings of our 
 Beach-la-mar. Other ships take the sea bound ' 'from and toward," to 
 cite the prepositions duly entered on the pages of every log book. 
 It is port which they are seeking, the sea is but the way. But port 
 
 *We may not omit a brief note of a forgotten chapter of our national history. Our 
 widely scattered possessions in the Pacific, colonies or dependencies or whatever name 
 may be assumed to make constitutional the fruit of war, Hawaii, Wake Island, Guam, the 
 Philippines, and Samoa, belong to us by title deeds little advanced into their second 
 decade. Only a few days short of a century ago Commodore Porter, neglected when not 
 pursued by the active spite of the Commissioners of the Navy, foresaw the Pacific needs 
 of those United States which had only in outposts here and there reached the Missis- 
 sippi. In the course of these operations of the Essex he annexed the Marquesas by 
 solemn act of national sovereignty. This deed of wise prescience was neglected, not even 
 disowned. On the site of Fort Madison at his newly founded capital city of Washington- 
 ville in the Bay of Taiohae in Nukahiva I have delved in vain for the bottled and buried 
 copy of the proclamation of annexation. The filed copy has vanished from the government 
 archives; we may draw the conclusion that it fluttered into the waste paper basket from 
 the hands of that Secretary of State whose name is forever attached to the Monroe 
 Doctrine as — after Washington's "avoid all entangling alliances" — the first formula of 
 our foreign policy. This history is most obscure. The result of a very close study of the 
 records is presented by Commander E. L. Beach, U. S. N., in "The Pioneer of America's 
 Pacific Empire: David Porter, "in "United States Naval Institute ProceedingsXXXIV." 
 
6 BEACH-L,A-MAR. 
 
 must ever irk the whaleman ; he must keep the sea as long as he may; 
 the haven where other ships would be is to him but the place in which 
 to refit with wood and water to equip him for another campaign 
 against the gigantic mammals of fathomless ocean. His contact with 
 the shoreward folk must be so brief as to leave little permanent record. 
 Thus it is in the Beach-la-mar; only a few expressions or words do I 
 find it at all necessary to accredit to whalers' influence, and those in 
 no more than a secondary position. 
 
 Whaling, it should be explained, now that the industry is all 
 but extinct, was conducted in a fashion different from merchant 
 seafaring; it paid the whalemen on a basis of sharing in the catch. 
 The unit was the lay. Each sailor, according to his rating on the 
 ship's articles, was entitled to a lay representing a fixed large or 
 small share in the avails of the catch. Accordingly it was the best 
 economy to send the vessel out from her home port with only so 
 many men as would serve to work her around the stormy capes past 
 which were the whaling-grounds. Arrived in the Pacific it was the 
 custom to recruit boat's crews from the islanders, engaged for a wage 
 ridiculously small and without reward from the catch. From these 
 islanders, thus thrown for months into intimacy with the sailors, 
 Polynesian words were acquired to facilitate intercourse, and the 
 islanders themselves picked up some slight f amiliarity with broken 
 English interrupted by such Polynesian words as the sailors had 
 thought it easy or amusing to acquire. Discharged somewhere at 
 the end of the whaling voyage these men, now become competent 
 seamen and somewhat proficient interpreters, engaged for new 
 voyages, either through their enjoyment of the life or in the hope that 
 at some haphazard time they might reach their homes. It is to their 
 influence that we may best ascribe the presence of Polynesian words 
 readily recognizable as such in the Beach-la-mar, a speech designed 
 to facilitate communication with Melanesian peoples to whom the 
 Samoan and the Hawaiian are as foreign and incomprehensible as is 
 the English. For we should note that there never was a permanent 
 jargon based upon English and Polynesian.* Thus in the vocabulary 
 we note such words as kaikai and kanaka, in which the whalemen's 
 influence has been carried far. 
 
 *Frederici, however, takes another view, but he advances no argument in support of 
 his statement (page 93). 
 
 Von Neu-Seeland im Siidwesten und Hawaii im Nordosten scheint uberhaupt das 
 Sudsee-Pidgin-Englisch seine Laufe iiber die Inseln begonnen zu haben. * * * In 
 der Mitte des 19. Jahrhunderts scheint eine Art Pidgin-Englisch die Verkehrssprache 
 zwischen Weissen und Eingebornen auf alien damals besuchten Inseln der Sudhalfte des 
 Grossen Ozeans gewesen zu sein. Wahrend dann aber dieser Jargon in Ostpolynesien 
 durch FranzSsisch, auf den Cook-Inseln und Neu-Seeland durch ein leidlich reines 
 Englisch und im tibrigen allgemein durch die von den Weissen erlernten Eingebornen- 
 Dialekte der polynesischen Inseln zuruckgedrangt wurde, gewann in ganz Melanesien, 
 mit ausnahme von West-Neuguinea, das Pidgin-Englisch durch den Arbeiterhandel ganz 
 gewaltig an Ausdehnung und Intensitat. 
 
PARENTAGE OF THE JARGON. 7 
 
 Luck, as in all hunting, entered into whaling. If a ship were too 
 long empty her skipper would seek to pick up a dollar as honestly as 
 seemed convenient. Forsaking the whale for the season it had seemed 
 to forsake him, the whaler would hunt a lading of sandalwood, for 
 which he could obtain a fabulous profit in Canton. In the China 
 ports he might even load for home with a cargo that promised a good 
 return on the voyage. In time sandalwood attracted many adven- 
 turous seamen as a trade to prosecute, an industry offering the 
 richest rewards. The tree was found growing in untouched forests 
 on many islands, and none was too remote to escape the trader. This 
 led to a shore sojourn, a closer association with aboriginal races ; it 
 was in this new condition that the jargon was found to be a necessity 
 of communication. The sandalwood is now extinct, not a sapling 
 escaped this ransacking, not a tree was held sacred for the per- 
 petuation of its kind. But the speech which grew out of its exploita- 
 tion endures and has been found adaptable to the needs of newer 
 commerce. 
 
 After the sandalwood trade came the beche-de-mer fishery. This 
 involved much closer association with the islanders. The master of 
 a vessel engaging upon that trade landed, here and there where the 
 reefs were promising, one or more of his men to conduct the fishery 
 and to smoke the animals so that they might be marketable. Whether 
 one man was landed or a companion shared his loneliness, these 
 adventurers had to establish communication with the savage folk 
 among whom long months were to be passed before the ship would 
 return for their takings. 
 
 With these outposts of civilization shedding a murky ray upon the 
 simple night of savagery and drawing dark stains upon it should be 
 associated the beachcomber. 
 
 Whatever his lapses from rigidity of morals, whatever his slips in 
 deportment, the beche-de-mer fisher, when the reefs remained produc- 
 tive, the copra trader which he has become under modern conditions 
 (for conditions do change even in the South Sea), these solitaries 
 at least professed industry even though it were harshly vicarious. 
 They had work to do ; there was at least the semblance of the expec- 
 tation that they might earn their return to better conditions. The 
 beachcomber was in far other case. He was runagate, deserter; a 
 score of such dingy men have told me "the ship lay off this shore 
 and I just jumped her." 
 
 How can we, churched and policed, how can we comprehend the 
 impulses? Here the ship, the weariness of coarse foods, the hard 
 task, the constraint of duty, the first mate; over the rail a cable's 
 length or two or three of soft shimmer of water, warm and buoyant; 
 beyond the slope ever green; at the shore ,the soft susurrus of the 
 fronds of the swaying palms, the distant forest canopies laced with 
 
8 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 white ribbons of cascades that look forever cool and reposeful. In the 
 slow, scented drift of the night air comes the mingled perfume of 
 heavy odors, the rhythmic clapping of hands as the sensuous charm 
 of the dance intermixes in posturings and swayings, the cheer of 
 happy laughter, the swell of the music of song. Small wonder that 
 tide and beach attract; another sailor has "just jumped his ship"; 
 one more beachcomber settles down to the comfort of savage life 
 where duty is a thing unkown. 
 
 Such and of such sort have been the men who were the active 
 agency in creating the Beach-la-mar. Being men they must talk, 
 even among alien folk. It is not that they had anything much worth 
 the saying; of men much better placed that may not always be 
 postulated. This record of the language which they have created 
 will show the paucity of their essential ideas and their scanty import- 
 ance. If we are to seek to comprehend the jargon the time will not 
 have been wasted in the presentation of these brief sketches of the 
 manner of men out of whose needs its creation arose and the condi- 
 tions under which that need became manifest. 
 
 It will be apparent that so far we have accounted for no more than 
 sporadic foci of evolution of some mongrel dialects, each narrowly 
 restricted in essential conditions to one or at most to two white men, 
 and the few communities of islanders with which they were in inti- 
 mate contact. Being sedentary in their employment, the white men, 
 as the principal actuating cause, were not in a position to become 
 agents in disseminating their particular mongrel speech beyond the 
 narrow limits of their influence, and, in the habitual hostility of the 
 savage communities, this influence could never extend beyond the 
 island upon which they were domiciled and seldom (save only in the 
 case of the very smallest) attained to the whole of that island. 
 
 But the island world of the Pacific was yet anew to be exploited. 
 The sandalwood had become extinct, the b£che-de-mer had been 
 fished out. There remained a third natural product which had value 
 in lands beyond, the manhood of the islands. The labor trade arose, 
 slave hunting perfumed by euphemisms. Blackbirding was the term 
 cynically affected by its practitioners ; at the behest of its benefi- 
 ciaries, recruiting of Polynesian labor was the designation in acts of 
 Colonial parliaments and Queen's orders in council which named an 
 infamy into respectability on paper and ordered its methods. It was 
 the blackbirding which assumed the mongrel tongues wherever found, 
 bore them to the remotest parts of the Pacific, established them in the 
 Queensland plantations on the Australian coast, and fused them all 
 into a common speech and thereby created the Beach-la-mar. 
 
 Melanesia is a tangle of severally incomprehensible languages. In 
 mystudies of the philology of that major division of thePacific I have 
 made use of more than a hundred distinct tongues, yet there are 
 
PARENTAGE OF THE JARGON. 9 
 
 large areas for which no data are as yet accessible. I should not be 
 surprised if future research should disclose 250 languages in that 
 island area. Day may utter speech unto day, but not island to 
 island in Melanesia. Even so tiny an islet as Three Hills — it is but 
 six miles long — has two distinct and severally incomprehensible lan- 
 guages; one finds its affiliations with the remote Polynesian family, 
 the other avoids all coordination with any known speech. There was 
 no common tongue for the islands which lie between New Caledonia 
 and New Guinea, interpreters there were none. The Melanesian 
 Mission has been forced to set aside the language of Mota in the New 
 Hebrides, to train its indigenous deacons and priests in that language 
 in order that when well instructed in the faith and theology they may 
 serve as messengers in their home villages. Yet the law, the weapon 
 forged by those sage parliaments and orders in council for the pur- 
 pose of varnishing the semblance of humanity upon slave hunting, 
 prescribed that the slaver must explain to the intended slave the full 
 meaning of his engagement and that the slave's answers must satisfy 
 the Government labor agent that he comprehended what he was 
 about to do when he gave up his home and idleness to go to an 
 unknown country to toil in the canebrakes. The consideration for 
 thus going into exile was some ridiculously disproportionate matter 
 of trumpery — a hatchet of soft iron, a handful of beads — and it 
 was colorably into hand paid, but as a matter of custom it always 
 went into the wrong hands, it was given to those who remained 
 ashore. No act of any parliament, no regulation emanating from 
 the High Commissioner of the Western Pacific could avail to gloss 
 over such transactions to the savage; he is far too elemental to 
 consider fact less fact when treacled in words. A theoretical captain 
 of a registered recruiting vessel, and there was never such an one 
 in the labor trade, may have been courteous enough and sufficiently 
 law-regardful to inquire of the expected slave if it were his pleasure 
 to enter into an engagement to till the cane in a far land. The 
 slave's chief who wished to sell him asked bluntly "You wantum 
 buy boy?" 
 
 It was the labor trade which made Beach-la-mar a jargon and 
 extended its currency. It gathered material from every source, it 
 fused them all and created a language which yet remains the only 
 means of intercommunication in the Western Pacific. 
 
 In this summary of the causes of the Beach-la-mar I have hitherto 
 omitted dates, and that of design. While events in divers parts 
 of the Pacific were moving along these lines the motion was not 
 synchronous in all parts alike. Some of the islanders had a worse 
 reputation for inhospitality manifested in general devilishness than 
 others, just as soot may be smudged on charcoal. Adventurous 
 as the first voyagers in Melanesia were, there was instinct within 
 
10 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 them a certain regard for the integrity of their skins, and their 
 characteristics of orthodoxy led them to look with equal disfavor 
 upon the oven for their mortal parts and flames for whatever residue 
 they considered themselves to possess. Thus it came about that 
 their activities were unequally advanced. In general we may assign 
 the sandalwood trade to the thirties of the last century, the trepang 
 fishing to the forties and fifties, the labor trade to the middle sixties 
 and thence onward in ever increasing vigor for about a score of years. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 THE ART OF BREAKING ENGLISH. 
 
 Having shown the means by which the Beach-la-mar came into 
 being and was established over a wide extent, we have next to con- 
 sider the manner in which the two parties to the transaction arrived 
 at an agreement in making the changes, each in his own speech and 
 each in the speech of the other, whereby the resultant mongrel of 
 language might respond to the calls of the need of each owner. 
 
 Here we are to find two personal equations. We shall have to bear 
 in mind that each party to the jargon must of necessity make sacri- 
 fices of his own speech down to what he may consider the irreducible 
 and ultimate. We shall equally have to bear in mind that there is a 
 great difference in the attitude of the civilized man and that of the 
 savage, and that, with his assumption of the right to rule the bar- 
 barian through white franchise and with his advantage in the pos- 
 session of the tawdry wares which to the islander seem such treasures, 
 the white man must be the directive force in this creation of a speech 
 which shall become common. 
 
 Of peculiar incidence upon the speaker of English, we must not 
 neglect to recognize one supreme axiom of international philology: 
 the proper way to make a foreigner understand what you would say 
 is to use broken English. He speaks it himself, therefore give him 
 what he uses. 
 
 '"Then we give them the shoot gun,' says Xury, laughing, 'make 
 them run wey'; such English he spoke by conversing among us 
 slaves." This we owe to Robinson Crusoe. 
 
 In Bleeding Heart Yard we shall find the principle developed in 
 richer detail; and the extracts, while long, will prove valuable. 
 Each in his own way, Dickens and Defoe were observers particularly 
 alert in the walk of the common life. 
 
 It was up-hill work for a foreigner, lame or sound, to make his way with 
 the Bleeding Hearts. In the first place, they were vaguely persuaded that 
 every foreigner had a knife about him ; in the second, they held it to be a 
 sound constitutional national axiom that he ought to go home to his own 
 country. They never thought of inquiring how many of their own country- 
 men would be returned upon their hands from divers parts of the world if 
 the principle were generally recognized; they considered it practically and 
 peculiarly British. In the third place, they had a notion that it was a sort 
 of divine visitation upon a foreigner that he was not an Englishman, and 
 that all kinds of calamities happened to his country because it did things 
 that England did not, and did not do things that Kngland did. * * * 
 
 11 
 
12 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 Against these obstacles the lame foreigner with the stick had to make 
 head as well as he could. * * * However, the Bleeding Hearts were 
 kind hearts; and when they saw the little fellow cheerily limping about 
 with a good-humored face, doing no harm, drawing no knives, committing 
 no outrageous immoralities, living chiefly on farinaceous and milk diet, and 
 playing with Mrs. Plornish's children of an evening, they began to think 
 that although he could never hope to be an Englishman, still it would be 
 hard to visit that affliction on his head. They began to accommodate 
 themselves to his level, calling him Mr. Baptist but treating him like a 
 baby, and laughing immoderately at his lively gestures and his childish 
 English — more because he didn't mind it, and laughed too. They spoke 
 to him in very loud voices as if he were stone deaf. They constructed 
 sentences, by way of teaching him the language in its purity, such as were 
 addressed by the savages to Captain Cook, or by Friday to Robinson 
 Crusoe. Mrs. Plornish was particularly ingenious in this art; and attained 
 so much celebrity for saying "Me ope you leg well soon," that it was con- 
 sidered in the yard but a very short remove indeed from speaking Italian. 
 Even Mrs. Plornish herself began to think that she had a natural call 
 toward that language. As he became more popular household objects were 
 brought into requisition for his instruction in a copious vocabulary; and 
 whenever he appeared in the yard ladies would fly out at their doors crying 
 "Mr. Baptist — tea-pot!", Mr. Baptist — dust-pan!", "Mr. Baptist — flour- 
 dredger!", "Mr. Baptist — coffee-biggin!" At the same time exhibiting 
 those articles, and penetrating him with a sense of the appalling difficulties 
 of the Anglo-Saxon tongue. * * * 
 
 " So that some of us thinks he's peeping out toward where his own country 
 is, and some of us thinks he's looking for somebody he don't want to see, 
 and some of us don't know what to think." 
 
 Mr. Baptist seemed to have a general understanding of what she said: 
 or perhaps his quickness caught and applied her slight action of peeping. In 
 any case, he closed his eyes and tossed his head with the air of a man who 
 had his sufficient reasons for what he did, and said in his own tongue it 
 didn't matter. Altro! 
 
 "What's altro?" said Pancks. 
 
 " Hem! It's a sort of general kind of expression, sir," said Mrs. Plornish. 
 
 "Is it?" said Pancks. "Why then altro to you, old chap. Good after- 
 noon. Altro!" 
 
 Mr. Baptist in his vivacious way repeating the word several times, Mr. 
 Pancks in his duller way gave it him back once. From that time it became 
 a frequent custom with Pancks the gypsy, as he went home jaded at night, 
 to pass round by Bleeding Heart Yard, go quietly up the stairs, look in at 
 Mr. Baptist's door, and, finding him in his room, to say "Halloo, old 
 chap! Altro!" To which Mr. Baptist would reply with innumerable bright 
 nods and smiles, "Altro, signor, altro, altro, altro!" After this highly con- 
 densed conversation Mr. Pancks would go his way with an appearance of 
 being lightened and refreshed. 
 
 Here we have the fractured English, the comminution so benefi- 
 cial to foreigners. There can be no doubt about the value; we induct 
 our infants into their heritage in the classic dignity of the speech of 
 Shakespeare and Milton by drooling predigested fragments into their 
 dawning intelligences ; and then, with jewelish consistency, in after 
 life we demand of them that they parse 
 
THE ART OF BREAKING ENGUSH. 13 
 
 Here we find, too, the satisfied, the condescending adoption of the 
 alien vocable. We feel the generous glow of reflecting that, after all, 
 it does us no lasting harm and makes the foreigner feel good, poor 
 devil. See how we enjoy his efforts to acquire the only real speech, 
 our own; he's only a poor barbarian, but so droll. 
 
 Katharine. Je me'n fais la repetition de tous les mots que vous m'avez 
 appris des a present. 
 
 Alice. II est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense. 
 
 K. Excusez moy, Alice; escoutez: de hand, de fingres, de nails, de anna, 
 de bilbow. 
 
 A. De elbow, madame. 
 
 K. Seigneur Dieu! je m'en oublie; de elbow. Comment appelez vous 
 le col? 
 
 A. De nick, madame. 
 
 K. De nick. Et le menton? 
 
 A. De chin. 
 
 A'. De sin. Le col, de nick; le menton, de sin. 
 
 A. Ouy. Sauf vostre honneur, en vente" vous prononcez les mots aussi 
 droict que les natifs d'Angleterre. 
 
 And Shakespeare's audience rocked with glee. 
 
 Far from the wild life of the Pacific as these illustrations are, they 
 yet exhibit two very active principles in the formation of the Beach- 
 la-mar; we shall find them running all through the vocabulary of 
 the jargon. 
 
 I have already commented upon the fact that the white man, who 
 is without particular intention or principle of philology dominating 
 the production of the mongrel speech for his own greater convenience, 
 is a man of little or no education. The categories of grammar are far 
 above his experience; the few rules and the many exceptions which 
 form the science of our speech have never been feruled into his 
 intelligence — perhaps it was in avoidance of them that he ran away 
 off to sea and became a part of a life of dingy adventure. Nothing 
 could shock him in the using of a noun for a verb, or of a pronoun for 
 an adverb, or of a stout expletive for the better establishing of the 
 force of his remarks. With his own kind he does that sort of thing 
 at all times; he could have no greater consideration for the savage, 
 who by no chance could detect a solecism. If he betrays no respect 
 for the parts of his speech, still less could he be expected to maintain 
 the integrity of the forms of inflection and conjugation. 
 
 In this latter item it were grossly unfair to stamp the ignorant 
 sailor as in a class apart, a depth of ignorance found only in blue 
 water and not known on soundings. It so happens that I am in a 
 position where my assistance is sought by many who have doubts on 
 grammatical questions which they would like to have resolved. I 
 shudder at the intimate knowledge which unconsciously is revealed 
 to me of the number of persons who believe "between you and I" 
 
14 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 to be what they are more than likely to denominate good grammar. 
 Only lately my good offices were sought by a correspondent who 
 asked a favorable decision on the phrase "whom he may be" as but- 
 tressed by this parsing : " he is the subject of the sentence, may be the 
 predicate, and whom is the object of the verb be." This from a person 
 of education, at least she had studied stenography and typewriting 
 and held a job. 
 
 I am not charging up these grammatical sins to the sailors by 
 reason of their briny yet fresh air profession; I merely note for the 
 purposes of this treatise that they are sinners in a fashion which has 
 left its mark on the jargon. From the marks thus made we may find 
 an interesting note of the variation which our language may undergo 
 and remain a means of communication; we find the irreducible mini- 
 mum which is felt to underlie all the refinements of vocabulary and 
 syntax. The English element of the jargon is vulgar English because 
 it is contributed through a vulgar channel; it is the English of the 
 ignorant, who have neither knowledge of canons which we regard as 
 essential to comprehensibility nor scruple about violating them. We 
 shall find ourselves far from English undefiled. 
 
 We are safe in crediting the beginning of Beach-la-mar to the fore- 
 castle. In its further development under the stimulus of the labor 
 trade we are to recognize the introduction of a new element. The 
 sailors who made up the crews of these legalized slavers were recruited 
 from the slums of the seaports of Australia, particularly the havens 
 of Queensland from Moreton Bay to Cooktown. It would be wide 
 of this inquiry to speculate into causes; the system (long in force) of 
 penal transportation comes into mind at once as a possible explana- 
 tion, but the fact remains that the common speech of the Common- 
 wealth of Australia represents the most brutal maltreatment which 
 has ever been inflicted upon the language that is the mother tongue 
 of the great English nations. Under such influence the poor kanaka 
 remained for his term of labor, a man to whom toil was absolutely 
 unknown; and this term was never less than three years, and so 
 much longer as he might pass unheard of the authorities who were 
 supposed to see that he was promptly returned to his own island. 
 In this labor their overseers communicated with the islanders through 
 the jargon. Among themselves, in the multitude of languages which 
 the chance of capture and of sale might fling together upon any one 
 plantation, the jargon became the only means of intercommunication. 
 It is not a difficult tongue to acquire, three years in the barracks of a 
 plantation were the equivalent of a university course.* 
 
 ■ *Denn jeder Mensch im Schutzgebiet weiss, dass der Melanesier sich nach 4- bis 8- 
 wochentlicher Dienstzeit leidlich im Pidgin-Englisch verstandigen kann. Jeder Polizei- 
 junge und jeder Arbeiter kann am Ende seiner Dienstzeit Pidgin-English sprechen und 
 kann Reis kochen. Da er immer wieder Gelegenheit findet, diese seine Kenntnisse auf- 
 zufrischen, so bewahrt er sie zumeist bis zum Ende seiner Tage. Diese beiden Punkte 
 sind charakteristisch fiir den ausgedienten Melanesier. — Eriederici, 99. 
 
THE ART OP BREAKING ENGLISH. 15 
 
 Note has been made of the fact that the superior partner, in 
 making his contribution to the capital stock of the jargon, has mani- 
 fested the utmost readiness to degrade and to debase the currency 
 of his English speech. We are to observe this in far greater detail in 
 the subjoined vocabulary and in the consideration of the syntax of 
 Beach-la-mar. Similarly we shall find it of interest to observe what 
 is the attitude of the junior, and ostensibly inferior, partner toward 
 the material which is communicated to him, and more particularly 
 toward that which he contributes from his own store. 
 
 I do not know a single language of the Pacific in which it is possible 
 to be ungrammatical ; there is certainly not one in which certain 
 persons are understood to speak with due regard for syntax and 
 certain others betray their lack of education by speaking incorrectly. 
 That is a distinction that marks only the races of higher culture ; the 
 lower race is of even and complete education. 
 
 This comment has reference properly only to matters of grammar. 
 In purity and beauty of diction there may exist marked distinctions. 
 I have listened with rich delight to the classic Samoan which Malietoa 
 I,aupepa, the last king of that realm, could employ with singular 
 grace when sure of the comprehension of his auditors; yet to many 
 Samoans his words would prove incomprehensible. Percy Smith, 
 the president of the Polynesian Society, has collected the words of 
 many of the karakia or mystic formulas of Maori might which can 
 never now be more than words, for no man alive can communicate 
 their inner sense. In my own collection of Samoan legend and 
 poetry are many passages for which no explanation can be given; the 
 ancient sages have taken the knowledge with them along the road 
 of the soul to Pulotu whence is no return. 
 
 The exactness and uniformity of the grammar of the island tongues 
 call for such explanation as we may offer. I have said that it is quite 
 impossible to be ungrammatical. The isolating languages have no 
 such device as inflection to indicate grammatical relation. Accuracy 
 in speech rests on accuracy in the positioning of the different words 
 and precision in the employment of the demonstrative and para- 
 deictic accessories which indicate, by the former the relations of 
 person and time and place and slightly of manner, by the latter the 
 concords and dependencies which exist between the attributive words. 
 In employing these several classes of words one puts the vocables in 
 the correct order, sense is made, comprehensibility results, and one is 
 understood. But put word to word in the incorrect order, the result 
 is nonsense, one is not understood at all. In this sense it is really 
 impossible to be ungrammatical. 
 
 Widely variant as they are in vocabulary, the languages of the 
 Western Pacific, in which the jargon was brought into being, are all 
 of the isolating type; their grammar, though to us it may seem most 
 
16 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 rudimentary, is of practical uniformity in principle, at least the 
 importance of position is paramount. We shall study in vain the 
 comical twists and awkward turns of the jargon if we fail to recognize 
 that the junior partner has largely taken the vocabulary from the 
 superior race and that the degradation of form and frequently of 
 sense has been effected by the white man himself; the savage has no 
 reason to suspect that the damaged goods are not the best in the 
 market. Of any item in this vocabulary we may scarcely venture to 
 credit the savage with a better comprehension than Mrs. Plornish 
 was able to exhibit in the definition of altro; the use to which he 
 puts them shows that he regards each as a sort of general kind of 
 expression. But, accepting this stock in trade or working capital, 
 the Melanesian applies the rigidity of his grammar, he employs the 
 English word with the precision of his own speech. If we are to 
 assign relative credits, the barbarian is shown in a far more respect- 
 able light. 
 
 That the islander when adopting the jargon thinks that he is 
 acquiring a foreign language is readily seen by inspection of the 
 vocabulary; there are but thirteen vocables which derive from any 
 speech of the Pacific. The Melanesians think the Beach-la-mar 
 English, they so denominate it; of a man who is faulty in his use of 
 the jargon the comment is frequently heard "he no speak proper 
 English." 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 GRAMMAR OF ISOLATING SPEECH. 
 
 It is manifest that the comminution of English speech before it 
 becomes Beach-la-mar is chargeable to the English themselves. The 
 study of the accompanying vocabulary will show that the islanders 
 have scarcely ventured upon so slight a modification as mispronun- 
 ciation of the material communicated to them, even conquering in 
 their effort toward accuracy grave phonetic difficulties. In this con- 
 nection it should be noted that a rough comprehension of such 
 phonetic difficulties, or rather a dim recognition that phonetic diffi- 
 culties existed, has to a certain extent conditioned the selection of 
 material for the jargon. Any English word which on experiment 
 proved impracticable to the islanders has undergone alteration to 
 bring it within the scope of their familiar range of sounds or has been 
 rejected for some facile synonym. 
 
 A more minute examination of the vocabulary than is worth while 
 in this paper will show that the concessions in speech material made 
 on phonetic grounds are found most markedly in the case of words 
 dependent for the accuracy of their pronunciation on a fine differen- 
 tiation of the labials. This falls into line, with what I have been 
 at pains elsewhere to establish, namely that in the languages of the 
 Pacific the facility of the lips as speech organs is as yet most imper- 
 fectly acquired.* 
 
 Having accepted from the foreigner this accumulation of new 
 vocables, just as ages ago in the sweep of the great Proto-Samoan 
 migration of the Polynesian race the Melanesians acquired similarly 
 a supply of loan material, these islanders have subjected the new 
 fund of speech units to the regime of their own speech. 
 
 For this reason we should engage on a summary survey of the 
 principles of Melanesian speech. 
 
 We are yet far too little acquainted with the many and diverse 
 languages of Melanesia to feel warranted in using the term Melane- 
 sian speech as in the least implying that there is now, or by analysis 
 and comparison may be at all established, such a thing as one parent 
 of the languages to be met with between the Papuans of New Guinea 
 and the empty sea to the south of the Isle of Pines at the lower tip of 
 New Caledonia. In fact I am expectant that future research directed 
 upon data more complete than are at present accessible will show the 
 existence of at least two, perhaps three, distinct speech families within 
 this large area of oceanic land. 
 
 *"The Polynesian Wanderings," 332. 
 
 17 
 
18 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 Be that as it may, it really is safe to say that all of the hundred 
 known languages of Melanesia are on practically the same plane of 
 development, even as those who speak them vary in but few particu- 
 lars little above or little below the same cultural horizon. With this 
 note we shall feel at liberty to employ for the purposes of this study 
 the convenience of such a designation as Melanesian speech, a com- 
 posite of our knowledge of many languages within that region used 
 as a bench-mark for the examination of this jargon. 
 
 We have discarded Bopp's erroneous classification, erected on quite 
 insufficient data, parroted by a long line of systematic philologists, 
 the Malayo- Polynesian speech family. Briefly stated, he sought to 
 set forth that from Madagascar to Easter Island there was a single 
 family of languages and that it was agglutinative. Although first 
 combated by Crawfurd in 1847, this theory has been a stumbling- 
 block to hinder the progress of the study of linguistics in the Pacific 
 tract, thus in a great measure succeeding in preventing the forging 
 of the weapon which might destroy it. Now, however, we recognize 
 the falsity of the classification, and Polynesian and Melanesian may 
 go ahead in search of their appointed end. We know that these two 
 groups of languages are not agglutinative. 
 
 They are isolating. Formative elements have lately begun to 
 attach themselves to primal root or stem forms, yet they are far 
 from so much as the beginning of that alteration in sense or in form 
 or in both which characterizes the quasi terminations or infixations 
 of the agglutinative languages. Vocables are frequently monosyl- 
 labic; more commonly they are in pairs of syllables; there is no 
 objection to stately polysyllables. It is not difficult to separate 
 these words into monosyllabic elements; the reduction is so suc- 
 cessfully accomplished in such a great number of instances that when 
 the reduction seems to fail we may properly ascribe such failure to 
 the lack of data rather than to any fault of method or defect of 
 principle. We go even beyond this reduction to monosyllables. 
 There is excellent reason — in many cases it is clearly demonstrable — 
 to believe that the seemingly ultimate monosyllable is susceptible of 
 reduction to the primal seed of the language in a vowel, to which may 
 be prefixed or may be suffixed, or both, certain modulant consonants 
 having definite coefficient value; that is to say, the consonantal 
 modulants tend to qualify, to define, to refract, and to focus some 
 particular sense in which the primordial seed vowel may be applied 
 for the communication of ideas.* 
 
 In a certain distinctive word-form the Melanesian languages 
 exhibit wide variety. In the softly flowing languages of Polynesia 
 the rule is absolute that all syllables must be open; every word must 
 therefore end in a vowel ; two consonants may never under any cir- 
 
 ♦Araerican Journal of Philology, XXVII, 369. 
 
GRAMMAR OF ISOLATING SPEECH. 19 
 
 cumstances be brought together, and open-mouthed words all vocalic 
 and without a single stouter phonetic element are frequent. But in 
 Melanesia there is no such uniformity. Certain of the languages 
 prefer the vowel ending ; in certain neighbor languages this is highly 
 objectionable; terminal abrasion is applied upon the weak ending and 
 the vowel is rubbed off for the stronger ending. We find instances in 
 great plenty of this feature carried to the second degree ; a word in 
 passing from a language of open habit to one of the closed habit loses 
 its final vowel, but in yet more distant passage through this medium 
 to another language of open habit it undergoes still another loss : the 
 then final consonant is thrown aside to expose a vowel which in the 
 beginning was inner. 
 
 In the matter of the concurrence of consonants there is similar 
 disparity. In the Melanesian languages of open habit no two con- 
 sonants may come together. There is next a considerable group of 
 languages in which certain double consonants not only are permitted, 
 but are rigorously required. This is particularly the case with the 
 sonant mutes. In this group, somewhat widely dotted over the geo- 
 graphical area, the sonant mutes are unspeakable without the sup- 
 port of the preface of the nasal, each of its proper series, the palatal 
 mute requiring the palatal nasal, the lingual mute the lingual nasal, 
 the labial mute the labial nasal. The following illustrate the principle : 
 In the mutation from surd palatal mute to spirant the k of the Poly- 
 nesian kamu may not in Viti become g simply, but requires the 
 preface of the palatal nasal ng, thus becoming nggamu, a double 
 consonant which is fairly represented by the ng of our English word 
 finger. In like manner t must become nd, and the Samoan futi is 
 vundi in Vaturanga, Nggela, and Bugotu. So p must at its simplest 
 mutation become nib; the Polynesian pongis appears as mbongi 
 in Nggao, Belaga, Nggela, Vaturanga, Bugotu, Omba, and Sesake. 
 Because, as already remarked, the labials are but just acquired and 
 imperfectly tamed the word may become a wretchedly uncouth 
 mouthing, as shown by these other pongis forms — kpwon in Arag, 
 Vuras, and Lakon; mpwon in Mota; kwon in Ix>; kmbwon in Maewo, 
 Gog, Motlav, and Norbarbar ; nggmbwon in Volow. This intermedi- 
 ate class admits concurrent consonants only in this specific instance, 
 not so much double consonants as grace notes. A more considerable 
 group of Melanesian languages has no objection to concurrent con- 
 sonants, no matter what they may be. 
 
 Such matters of form are far from being the really distinctive 
 character of isolating languages. A much more vital quality is the 
 evaluation of words as agencies of speech. Not for long ages of 
 evolution are we to approach the seemingly simple system of parts 
 of speech with which we are familiar until grammatical formalism 
 clouds the clarity of our analytic language. The great difficulty 
 
20 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 which has arisen to prevent the comprehension of isolating language 
 has been the fetish regard in which students have held eight or nine 
 parts of their own speech as in some sort deodand. 
 
 This is not the place, nor in this treatise is there room, for a com- 
 plete discussion of the syntactical problems of isolating speech. But 
 our study of the jargon calls for at least a summary statement of the 
 rules of Melanesian grammar in accordance with which it is used. 
 
 All vocables fall into one of three classes. This is a present and 
 operative condition; it is not impossible, in many cases it is easy, to 
 study out the method of differentiation by which these classes have 
 grown from a protoplasm of sounds modulated by a consciously 
 exerted intelligence. The three parts of Melanesian speech, the 
 designation familiar to our systems of grammar being conveniently 
 employed in an indicative sense and not as definition, are the attrib- 
 utive, the demonstrative, and the paradeictic. 
 
 The list of the vocables which fall within the third class is brief. 
 These words are such as indicate, but do not necessarily define, 
 relation as existing between two objects of cognition. The intellec- 
 tual plane of the men whose thought is communicated by these 
 languages is yet far too low to give to these relation words positive 
 and distinctive value ; their effective end in speech is no more than 
 to indicate that at a certain point there is a relation of some sort. 
 In this category we may discover the segmentation of the germ 
 which seems to promise growth into something corresponding to the 
 conjunctions and prepositions of the more highly organized systems 
 of speech. 
 
 There are very few of these paradeictic words — quite enough to 
 serve the islander's needs in distinguishing the several sorts of rela- 
 tion which seem to him valuable to communicate. Hence it comes 
 about that each of these few words must do recruit duty for a large 
 number of the relations to comprehension of which our keener intel- 
 ligence and recognition of a more deeply interlaced plexus of associ- 
 ation have brought us. We note that these words are among the 
 most elemental in the several languages ; they are the simple vowels, 
 or at most they have undergone the most primary modulation by the 
 prefixing of a coefficient consonant. To exhibit both the nature and 
 employment of the paradeictic we may profitably consider a colloca- 
 tion of vocables drawn from one of the isolating languages of the 
 Pacific, and I employ the Samoan of Nuclear Polynesia for the 
 reason that it has been so much more extensively studied than any 
 Melanesian speech that more detailed examination of the point is 
 comparatively easy. 
 
 In the composite sense group tola i manu we see two attributives 
 between which is interjected the paradeictic i. If we were to render 
 this phrase into Latin we should have historia animalium; we should 
 
GRAMMAR OF ISOLATING SPEECH. 21 
 
 find the dependence of the succeeding attributive word upon the 
 former paradigmatically incorporated within itself; we should parse 
 animalium as in the genitive objective. Therein we confess (at least 
 an examination of the logical process underlying the genitive use as 
 object shows that without particular note of the fact we do acknowl- 
 edge) that historia, though noun in its assignment to the classic parts 
 of speech, yet retains so much of its verb power as to govern an 
 object. In any English rendering we must employ a preposition ; we 
 can make the Samoan sense appear only through some such expres- 
 sion as "story of animals" or "story about animals." When we 
 examine the Samoan dictionary — and we find the same thing in all 
 Polynesia and in all Melanesia — it is observed that paradeictic i 
 is variously rendered as in, at, to, with, about, of, for, by, or eludes 
 specific rendition entirely. This heaping up of significations should 
 show on the first inspection that paradeictic i is not any one of these 
 English prepositions, it is not all of them; it is still so elemental a 
 part of primordial speech that it is far from becoming preposition at 
 all. The utmost that the Samoan conveys to his alert hearer, the 
 utmost that he regards it essential to convey for purposes of thought 
 communication, is the following, and here I must anticipate the 
 explanation of the attributive which will be reached in due and 
 orderly course. He says: " there-is-a-telling — there-is-a-relation — 
 living-things." Thus paradeictic i is not here a preposition; it is 
 but a warning sign that in the former attributive is a verbal value 
 and that it has transitive force upon the succeeding attributive. It 
 is, therefore, but a sign suggesting a certain group of relations. 
 
 Before we pass along and leave this particular paradeictic we 
 may well note another of its uses, for it is critical in our classification 
 of these languages as isolating and not agglutinative. To warrant 
 a language entry into the agglutinative class it is not sufficient to put 
 two elements into compaction. Clearing away the iron rule of the 
 printer, such compaction is a matter of pronunciation. We acknowl- 
 edge no such virtue in the nut-quad of the printer's case as that 
 by its presence or by its absence it shall make a word compound on 
 the one hand or on the other composite. So, as between isolating 
 languages freely compacting and agglutinative languages freely com- 
 posite, there must be a difference underlying the distinction. This is 
 it. In agglutination we encounter a modification and more or less 
 of atrophy of the subordinate members of the composite. 
 
 In the foregoing exhibition phrase from the Samoan we have 
 already seen tola the attributive word and i the paradeictic. In both 
 of the existing vocabularies of this language, and for motive of con- 
 venience I shall retain it in my dictionary, we encounter as a second- 
 ary attributive talai, erroneously designated verb but fairly employed 
 in no senses other than such as are comparable with our under- 
 
22 
 
 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 standing of a verb. Of course the paradeictic i is irreducible ; atrophy 
 of form is impossible. If we examine the sense we shall find no 
 variation of meaning; tola means as before; " there-is-a-telling" ; i as 
 before means " there-is-a-relation" ; therefore talai means " to tell to," 
 "to declare." It is accordingly a compacted word and not a com- 
 posite, it is a mark of isolating and not of agglutinative speech. 
 
 If it were not that for lexicographic ends it will be found convenient 
 to arrange certain verbal uses of tola under talai, I should treat the 
 compacted form as no more than a record of fluent pronunciation. 
 In our English we have words now in good usage, but wholly sub- 
 versive of etymology, as a result of such fluent utterance as must 
 always characterize the speech of any one in his native tongue. I 
 note the familiar instances of adder and apron where a space dis- 
 lodged westward has obliterated from our language the true words 
 nadder and napron, and newt where an eastward dislodgement of the 
 space leaves us puzzled over the simultaneous existence of newt and 
 evet or eft as names for the same animal. 
 
 The second of the parts of isolating speech is the demonstrative— 
 a class far larger and far more detailed and specific than the para- 
 deictic, yet still numerically small. Into this class fall those words 
 which give vocal expression to cognition data which in daylight may 
 be expressed almost, if not quite, as well by the pointing finger, which 
 commonly are expressed doubly by word of mouth and digito mon- 
 strari, a process now held inelegant, but which as recently as the 
 brightest days of the Appian Way and the Via Sacra was welcomed 
 as the best of good form. In this class we find what we know as pro- 
 nouns, personal, demonstrative, the beginning of interrogatives, but 
 no relatives have yet come into being. We find furthermore the basic 
 adverbs of place and time, not yet discrete; we find a few of the 
 adverbs of manner, the simplest ones. In general the demonstrative 
 words in this group of isolating languages are the vocalization of the 
 gesture language, the man's provision against speechlessness soon as 
 the evening shades prevail. 
 
 Next we come to the attributive class, in which lies the great bulk 
 of the vocabulary of each of these languages. In this part of isolating 
 speech we include those vocables which in speech of higher develop- 
 ment we have differentiated and have learned to designate nouns, 
 verbs, adjectives, and most of the adverbs. 
 
 Let us resume the consideration of tala. We have already seen the 
 word in a usage which must, despite its violence, be designated a 
 transitive noun, if we are to attempt to parse Samoan by means of 
 our own grammatical apparatus. But that by no means exhausts 
 the utilization of the word. Used absolutely, or with the definition 
 of a weak demonstrative which we might denominate article if it 
 were at all necessary to make a distinction where there is really no 
 
GRAMMAR OF ISOLATING SPEECH. 23 
 
 difference, le tala means "a story." With other demonstratives we 
 find the sense group ' on te tala meaning "I say." Regarded as word 
 absolute, tala passes unchanged from one sense to the next. It sim- 
 plifies the grammar to group all the significations of tala, of the 
 thousands of other words which are similarly flexible in use, and to 
 erect a part of speech which shall at once and for all its contents 
 define the use, just as in our more discrete grammar a noun is the 
 name of any person, place, or thing which can be known or men- 
 tioned, and a verb is a word which signifies to be, to do, or to suffer. 
 If I may be pardoned a personal note I do wonder whence these 
 machine-made definitions come back so perfectly to mind at the 
 moment when for the first time in a generation I need them or 
 their like. 
 
 We may, of course, say that tala is a root invariable in form, but 
 which varies in sense according as it is used for a noun or a verb. 
 This is a very indolent way of disposing of the problem; we shall 
 find no difficulty in adducing many instances from English in which 
 noun and verb are the same in form, which interesting fact has 
 absolutely no whit to do with the matter. There is far more in this 
 attributive part of isolating speech than is susceptible of explanation 
 by the statement that any vocable may serve as noun, verb, adjec- 
 tive, or adverb according to the whim of the speaker. We shall lose 
 the whole significance of isolating speech if we avoid its problems 
 by such evasion, and it is vitally significant when we see it pointing 
 the way to the comprehension of how man created for his own needs 
 the art of speech. 
 
 In our system of formal grammar the only thing which at all 
 approximates this idea is the verbal noun. The savage of our study, 
 like many another primitive thinker, has no conception of being in 
 the absolute; his speech has no true verb "to be." Similarly he can 
 not conceive a quality in the absolute ; his recognition of that quality 
 is always substantive; quality and the notorious existence of that 
 quality must share his statement. His is not the intelligence to say 
 "red" as we may do and hold an abstract idea of redness; whatever 
 word he may use to express "red" must equally express the concep- 
 tion of existence; the utmost he can say is "is-red," and when the 
 word is spoken the untrained intelligence and, in great likelihood, 
 the roving eye will seek out some object in nature concerning which 
 specifically to posit the existing quality, whether it be the blossom 
 of hibiscus tucked over his neighbor's ear or the long tail-feathers of 
 the tropic bird aloft visible to his keen sight, but to us, when dis- 
 cerned, no more than a locomotive dot in the blue heavens. 
 
 Recur to my first introduction of the sample phrase, tala i manu: 
 it will be observed that for tala I offered a sense as dashed as if it 
 were in the Morse code: "there-is-a-telling." Such periphrasis 
 
24 BEACH-I.A-MAR. 
 
 incorporates the naming element of the stem and the substantive 
 force. It is about as near as we can come to the isolating signification 
 when we attempt to render it in our own analytic speech, we may 
 come a little closer in the rendering ' ' being-a-telling. ' ' 
 
 Thus are we come to the point where I may venture upon a defini- 
 tion of the attributive as a part of isolating speech. It is the sub- 
 stantive pronouncement of the existence of a state, of a quality, or of 
 an action. Under that definition we need not concern ourselves in 
 the least with the noun or the verb, the adjective or adverb, which 
 are yet long uncertain epochs of evolution in the future. 
 
 With this fixed in the comprehension it is not difficult to see how 
 tala may seem to us now noun and now verb, yet to the Samoan 
 intelligence may be a single speech unit undifferentiated. I have 
 introduced le tala as exhibiting the usage in which tala holds the 
 position of a noun such as we understand. To the Samoan this word 
 group means "the — being-a-telling," and that will at once be seen 
 to be the basic signification of what we mean under our noun "story." 
 Again I have introduced this other word group as illustrating the 
 verb function of the stem, 'ou te tala. In the Samoan sense this is 
 "of -me — the — bdng-a-telling," that is "mine-the-telling,'' and that 
 finally is "I tell." Accordingly we have established, at least suffi- 
 ciently for the purposes of this treatise, the essential nature of the 
 attributive words in the isolating speech of Melanesia. 
 
 This chapter may seem a pause in the narrative of the evolution 
 of the Beach-la-mar. Yet it is most essential; the vocabulary is 
 alien; when put to use by the islanders it is under the rule of the 
 grammar of isolating speech; only with this preliminary sketch of 
 that grammar can we trace out the turns of the jargon. No matter 
 from which of the parts of English speech a jargon vocable may be 
 derived, there is no difference in its employment; in Beach-la-mar 
 it may be attributive, demonstrative, or paradeictic — none other, 
 since none other there is. Into whichever of these three parts of 
 speech the adopted alien vocable falls it is under the Melanesian 
 rules governing the traffic in such part of isolating speech. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 SOURCES AND USE OF THE VOCABULARY. 
 
 We shall in this chapter pass to a more detailed examination of 
 the vocabulary as under the regimen of the grammar of isolating 
 speech. In the course of such examination we shall see the source 
 of the odd quips and turns of speech which give the Beach-la-mar the 
 twang of low comedy. But we are not to dismiss it lightly because 
 it happens to be risible; even at the uttermost isles of the sea we are 
 not to allow our readiness to see the jest obscure the fact that in it 
 many a true word is spoken. It is a vivid and vital speech, and 
 within its not inconsiderable area a most Valuable means of com- 
 munication, in fact the only feasible means. 
 
 In the vocabularies proper to the several Melanesian languages 
 the paradeictic words are very few in number and correspondingly 
 general in their employment. Such we shall find the case in the 
 Beach-la-mar; there are listed but a baker's dozen such vocables, 
 and of these five are recorded only in the most modern phase of the 
 jargon and are of doubtful authenticity. 
 
 To correlate them the more readily with our own speech we shall 
 examine these in two classes according as they serve the end of our 
 conjunctions or our prepositions. 
 
 In this vocabulary we find citations exhibiting the use of the con- 
 junctions and, but, if, or. It will be seen that with one exception 
 (if reported by Captain Wawn in 1893 as from the eighties), these are 
 all supported only by the most modern recorders. Against this we 
 set the fact that in the Melanesian languages, indeed throughout the 
 speech of the Pacific, the specific need of conjunctives has been 
 little felt, and of disjunctives still less. Even so elemental an idea as 
 is conveyed by and is conceived of only in the relation of two or more 
 concrete objects; the conjunction of clauses and of sentences is 
 effected by putting one in succession to the other without the use of 
 a word expressive of such relation. In the version of the Eden 
 sermon which is here cited the presence of the conjunctions is dis- 
 tinctly a blemish upon the composition; if every and were deleted 
 the result would be far better Beach-la-mar. The conditional particle 
 is to a certain extent in other case. It is scarcely necessary to Mela- 
 nesian thought and is forced upon the jargon from European needs. 
 Phonetically it involves a labial which is not everywhere possible 
 to the islanders; I have record of a scant fifteen languages in which/ 
 is possible, 15 out of 150. If the consonant were to be abraded 
 
 25 
 
26 B^ACH-IvA-MAR. 
 
 because of labial difficulty the resultant vowel would be in confusion 
 with the prepositional i. For these, and probably as well for reasons 
 which have been found to exist in similar conditions far remote from 
 the Pacific, the contributing sailors have expressed the conditional 
 by suppose, which may become s'pose or 'pose. It has attained such 
 wide currency in so many jargon tongues that these two citations of 
 if in the room of suppose suggest rather the ignorant learning of the 
 reporters. 
 
 Among the paradeictics of prepositional employment by far the 
 greatest use is made of along, belong, long. Evidently they derive 
 from the same source; certainly long does derive equally from along 
 and belong. It is possible that along and belong were independent 
 contributions to the jargon vocabulary, but the three are now found 
 so freely interchanging that this point, no matter of great importance, 
 is impossible of settlement. The three cover, among others, every 
 prepositional sense, so that little occasion arises for our other prepo- 
 sitions. This is a little strange in the case of in and of. If these very 
 common prepositions were subjected to the usual island abrasion 
 of final consonants the result would be the vowels i and o; and almost 
 from one end of the Pacific to the other i means in and o means of. 
 Our records show us but a single instance of the use of to, and in that 
 instance we may rest very sure that to is not regarded as paradeictic 
 but as one of the three syllables of a command speech unit in which 
 the syntax is as little comprehended as is the theology. 
 
 The demonstratives in Beach-la-mar number eighteen; but the 
 bulk of the burden is borne by three personal pronouns and one which 
 we designate demonstrative, namely me, you, him, and that. Some 
 few of the citations show inflectional forms of these pronouns, yet 
 they rest on doubtful authority and are not demanded by the canons 
 of the best jargon. It may seem to us somewhat more tidy to remark 
 to a casual cannibal "I say," but he will much better comprehend the 
 locution me speak. With us there is something urgent, something 
 insistent about that oblique case of the first person singular. Me 
 seems a stouter word than /; given the least encouragement it pops 
 into places where it finds that it must not trespass under penalty of 
 the law grammatical. We must not say " he is better than me," yet 
 we do. We must not say " it is me, ' ' yet we do ; and when brought to 
 book for our offense we envy the French who can happily be correct 
 and ungrammatical with their c'est wot, or we look with pious longing 
 at the Society of Friends in the very next pronoun where grammar is 
 swallowed up in faith and thee religiously serves as the subject of a 
 verb. But given a distant sea, where the laws of Lindley Murray 
 have no currency and the writ grammatical does not run, it is inter- 
 esting to see with what vigor me becomes subject and forgets its 
 accusative origin in the joy of new life. 
 
SOURCES AND USE OF THE VOCABULARY. 27 
 
 In the third person we find a wholesale sacrifice of gender, him is 
 man, woman, and it. In these citations I find but a single instance of 
 she, none at all in my own knowledge of the jargon; and as this 
 single instance is supplied by Miss Grimshaw we may disbelieve, but 
 we must show our manners and yield politely place aux dames. 
 
 In Beach-la-mar these pronouns lack pronominal vigor. They 
 may stand alone, but in general they are found leaning for support 
 upon the universal noun fellow. Fellow is man or woman. Our 
 pronouns when they pass to island keeping seem too weak to be erect 
 and need the prop. The same word sustains the numerals. In this 
 usage we get a glimpse of the reason. The numeral is too abstract 
 in itself; it needs a differentiating device to show that it is used in a 
 concrete sense. Where tasi means "one" it is necessary to employ 
 to'atasi when one man is counted. If this be the ignorance of the 
 savage we are not much better ; our drovers reckon cattle as so many 
 head, our soldiers compute arms as so many stand. Therefore it 
 behooves us when we scan the entries under fellow in this vocabulary 
 to burnish our own pots before we remark upon the blackness of 
 cannibal kettles. 
 
 It will prove scarcely worth while to formulate the rules of the 
 grammar of this speech. They will best be acquired from study of the 
 examples presented in the vocabulary and in the Eden sermon. Each 
 word stands fixed, a unit of speech; it rises serene above the shifts 
 of paradigms; case and number, mood and tense and voice leave it 
 high and dry. In the adjective comparison is unknown ; the islanders 
 do not know how to think comparatively — at least they lack the 
 form of words by which comparison may be indicated; "this big, 
 that small " is the nearest they can come to the expression of the idea 
 that one thing is greater than another. Because of this absence of 
 comparative thought I incline to regard the frequent more better as 
 comparative only in the estimation of the white men ; to the islander 
 it must come only as an emphasis upon positive statement. 
 
 In the verb we encounter a form-phase which may suggest inflec- 
 tion. This is the final syllable which in our authorities appears as 
 'm, um or em, or even by a species of grammatical scrupulosity as 
 him. I can not see in any case here presented, or in my wider famil- 
 iarity with the speech, any reason to regard v this as in any sort a 
 personal pronoun in the position of the former of a double object. 
 In general there is the objection that the speech is yet far below such 
 a nicety of grammar; in particular opposition we find the termina- 
 tion applied to attributives with verbal powers in cases where the 
 object can be reached only by the bridge of an interjected along. 
 Euphony is equally out of question as an explanation. There is not 
 the slightest suggestion of euphony in the jargon at large. Further- 
 more (and this is of great importance as bearing on such a suggestion 
 
28 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 of explanation) this terminal of neutral vowel and final consonant is 
 used not only on the islands to whose speech closed syllables are 
 grateful, but quite as generally where the genius of the indigenous 
 language is in favor of the open syllable. In the latter case (an even 
 half of the island tongues which underlie and condition the use of the 
 Beach-la-mar) the employment of this termination entails a con- 
 scious effort and some phonetic difficulty. 
 
 So far as concerns the form, and this has particular reference to the 
 final nasal, I think that we may credit the termination to the white 
 partners in the jargon. But it seems to me that the inspiration came 
 from the islanders. They must have added some sort of termination 
 to the vocables offered them ; the white men must have been led by 
 the resemblance in vowel quality and have jumped to the conclusion 
 that this was the um with which they were familiar in recollection of 
 the small language of early childhood. 
 
 This explanation is borne out by familiar study of the many 
 island languages. In almost all of them, Melanesian and Polynesian 
 alike, there is a termination which may be applied distinctively to 
 vocables when used in a sense similar to that which we know under 
 the designation of verbs. This is the neutral vowel, represented by 
 a when the languages are reduced to writing. It may be applied 
 directly to the stem or it may require the assistance of the para- 
 deictic i. In the somewhat extended essays upon the syntax of the 
 Polynesian languages, in the slender treatises to which we owe our 
 knowledge of the varied Melanesian speech, the verb forms thus am- 
 plified are considered inflected and are defined as the passive voice 
 form. While working on this basis I was led to discover and to formu- 
 late certain rules — which by these authorities are nowhere set forth in 
 terms but which are readily deducible from more general statements. 
 
 A passive verb may govern a direct object. 
 
 A passive verb may govern an indirect object. 
 
 A passive verb may govern the agent in the nominative. 
 
 A passive verb may agree in number with its object. 
 
 A passive verb may be active, deponent or middle. 
 
 Such an outrage to my grammatical instincts was far too much. 
 If I had come to the heart of the South Sea, and the joy of parsing, 
 bright guiding star of speech, were thus rudely snatched from me, it 
 was surely time to do something. 
 
 As a result, the study and analysis of this built-up form, which is 
 really found to be governed by quite simple rules, has enabled me 
 to identify in the verb-employment of the island vocables of the 
 attributive class a special form to which I have given the name 
 objective aspect. It is this objective aspect of their own grammar 
 which the islanders have sought to apply to the jargon attributives 
 when employed in verb sense. They have affixed the neutral vowel 
 
SOURCES AND USE OE THE VOCABULARY. 29 
 
 from their own system ; the ignorant white men have been misled by 
 sound resemblance and have made the termination um, and the 
 refining force of such recorders as seek to make the jargon good 
 English have made it him, which is at least paradigmatically possible 
 even though the syntax may suffer. At base the termination which 
 makes the objective aspect is no more than a vocal sign of warning 
 that an object of the verb is to follow or that it is to be understood 
 that the action of the verb is extended upon some object not deemed 
 needful to state. 
 
 The general source of the Beach-la-mar vocables has already been 
 considered. Before leaving this interesting jargon study we may 
 note two or three particulars of origin. 
 
 Very properly, in close accordance with our knowledge of the 
 history of the growth of this trade-speech, the marine element is 
 large. There can be no hesitation in ascribing to forecastle English 
 such exotics as pickaninny, calaboose, and savvy — longshore sweepings 
 from the Spanish Main. The squareface, sole landward hope of the 
 sailor, is scarcely known ashore. The sailor dialect has kept alive 
 and has given to these remote savages the special sense of sing out 
 and look out, of capsize along with copper, of slew, of look alive, of 
 adrift and fashion. 
 
 Of certain elements of low, cant, vulgar English the sailors may 
 have been the carriers. But another source is to be included. It was 
 not all of blackbirding to get the kanaka aboard the schooner of the 
 labor trade; his term of hard labor was to be served in the Queens- 
 land plantations. Here he had the opportunity to enrich his vocabu- 
 lary with words which characterize Austral English. It is to this 
 opportunity, which one might scarcely venture upon saying the 
 moiling exile enjoyed, that we must ascribe in the greater measure 
 the inclusion of such terms as tumble down and blackfellow, of flash 
 and trash, of hook it and clear out, of hump and wire in, of gammon 
 and bloody. 
 
 Child men and until the day of unimportant death thinking only 
 as children, this speech of theirs, their English of our English, even 
 when it moves us to laughter moves us to see the pathos as well.* We 
 must pity when we see the even lack of emotion which runs a blue 
 
 *Friederici (page ioo) sheds a pleasant light upon the Beach-la-mar which I am sur- 
 prised to find that I had neglected. It is with pleasure, therefore, that I subjoin his 
 brief sketch of the manner in which this immature language is spoken: "Ich nannte es 
 vorhin einen hasslichen Jargon, eine Bezeichnung, die es ohne Zweifel reichlich verdient. 
 Aber es hat audi seine freundlichen, seine versohnenden Seiten, die selbst derempfindet, 
 der die Sprache |nur wenig beherrscht, die aber in der Hauptsache nur dann zutage 
 treten, wenn sie in dem ihr zustandigen Milieu, im Kreise von Kanakern gesprochen 
 werden, wenn sie aus deren Munde kommen. Auf dem Papier lasst sich nur schwer 
 die Wirkung mancher komischer Redewendungen, erstaunlicher Umschreibungen, 
 plotzlicher Ausrufe wiedergeben. Es gehort dazu das Geberdenspiel des Melanesiers 
 mit Mundwinkel, Nase, Augen und Stirn, seine unter Umstanden unsagbar verachtliche 
 Miene, sein kindliches Lacnen, seine laute Aufgeregtheit." 
 
30 BEACH-I.A-MAR. 
 
 thread through their dull lives. If we think of them as men over 
 whom the blaze of rage might flame, let us look at cross and growl to 
 see how shallow this great emotion really is. Or take in the other 
 direction the outpouring of self which alone can make us higher than 
 angels, angels who but continually do cry while we may be lifted up 
 to higher heavens where word and voice itself must fail our highest 
 joy. The most ridiculous word in the jargon is the name of love. 
 I^est the readier smile at the absurdity obscure the pity of it all, I 
 would revive a note which I made in a former paper (American 
 Journal of Philology, xxix, 36) : 
 
 In Duffield's New Ireland vocabulary (Proceedings of the Royal Society 
 of Queensland, 1, 115) pus-puss is defined as " a cat, a white shell, a delicate 
 word." In Stephan and Grabner's " Neu-Mecklenburg" (the same island) 
 it is cited in the phrase "bimeby she puss-puss plenty" as covering every 
 outward exhibition of affection, static and kinetic. Such, too, is my recol- 
 lection of the word from an earlier date in the same wild archipelago. The 
 student of ethics will find herein a striking disclosure of the jejunity of the 
 intellectual or spiritual development of these savages when their first need 
 of a term for the affections, possibly their first discovery of the existence of 
 such emotions, is awakened by seeing a rude sailor petting a cat, aliens both. 
 
 From German land hunger, from the Iron Chancellor's dream of a 
 colonial empire, the Beach-la-mar derives but the solitary specimen 
 of rauss, the mutilated fragment of heraus. This, it appears, is a 
 matter most grave. It must be in some sort Majestatsbeleidigung. 
 It is the riftwithin Weltpolitik's sweet-sounding lute. MereEnglish is 
 a weak vehicle; we must have the sonorous cadences in which Baron 
 von Hesse-Wartegg deplores the enormity and raises the Valkyr 
 * ' hoyotoho!' ' which shall call all Germany to repair to the breach and 
 ward off the danger ere it be too late. The ten-year period which 
 he set has already passed ; Fatherland must have been far too ruhig; 
 still the savage under the palms both rausses and is raussed. But let 
 the Baron in these pages sound yet once again his loud alarm: 
 
 Die vorstehenden Beispiele sind nicht, says he, etwa besonders groteske, 
 ich habe sie nur angefiihrt, wie sie mir gerade einfielen. Das ganze Pidgen- 
 Englisch bewegt sich in ahnlichen Bezeichnungen, und wer sie auchnur 
 einmal gehort hat, der wird den sehnlichen Wunsch hegen, dass dieser 
 Unsinn baldigst durch vernunftiges Deutsch ersetzt werde. Baldigst sag 
 ich deshalb, weil es jetzt noch Zeit ist, das Pidgen-Englisch auszurotten; 
 vergeht aber noch ein Jahrzehnt, dann wird es sich bei der taghch wachs- 
 enden Bevolkerung so eingebvirgert haben, dass es unmoglich sein durite, 
 und in weiteren f tinfzig Jahren besitzt das Deutsche Reich hier em Schute- 
 gebiet, dessen Missionbevolkerung nur englisch spricht. Fur die Welt- 
 stellung und das Ansehen Deutschlands ware dies gewiss traung una 
 beschamend. In alien Kolonien wird ausschliesslich oder doch vornehm- 
 lich die Sprache des Mutterlandes gesprochen, selbst in den kleinen, rings 
 von andersprachigen L&ndern umgebenen portugiesischen Kolonien. Una 
 Deutschland, das grosse, weltgebietende, sollte das nicht auch erreictien 
 kdnnen ? Seitens des Gouvernements des Siidseegebietes kann vorlauhg nur 
 
SOURCES AND USB OF THE VOCABULARY. 31 
 
 der Schulunterricht in diesem Sinne geregelt werden, denn den Pflanzern 
 und Kaufleuten kann man begreiflicherweise keine Vorschriften machen, 
 aber das deutsche Volk kann an den Patriotismus und den gesunden deut- 
 schen Sinn unserer den Archipel bewohnenden Landsleute appellieren. Ich 
 glaube wohl nicht fehlzugehen, wenn ich diesem gewiss ganz allgemeinen 
 Wunsche hier in kraftigster Weise Ausdruck gebe. Mogen doch die Deut- 
 schen in der Siidsee ihrer Muttersprache Anerkennung verschaffen und zu 
 ihrer Verbreitung dadurch beitragen, dass sie sich im Verkehr mit den Einge- 
 borenen nach Thunlichkeit der deutschen Sprache bedienen, anfanglich nur 
 einzelne Bezeicnnungen, dann allmahlich immer mehr, wenn auch nur eine 
 Art von Pidgen-Deutsch zur Einfuhrung bringen, bis der Nachwuchs aus 
 den deutschen Eingeborenenschulen da ist. Dann ist der schwierige Anfang 
 iiberstanden, und ein grosses Gebiet der Siidsee wird als Verkehrssprache 
 immer mehr die deutsche Sprache gebrauchen. Mogen sich in den heute 
 noch kleinen deutschen Ansiedlungen hier die Beamten, Missionare, Kauf- 
 leute und Handler die Hand zum deutschen Sprachenbunde reichen und 
 einander geloben, nach Kraften und bei jeder Gelegenheit f iir gutes Deutsch 
 einzutreten, mogen sie zeigen, dass sie auch in Bezug auf die Sprache die 
 Herren auf deutschem Grund und Boden sind. In ihren Handen allein 
 liegt dazu die Macht, und sie sollten sich mit alien Deutschen in der ganzen 
 Welt zu dem Streben vereinigen: "Die deutsche Sprache in deutschen 
 Kolonien." 
 
 Beach-la-mar is an amusing speech ; in this brief treatise we have 
 studied it with a gaiety of enjoyment which it would be a shame to 
 have repressed. But now we are alarmed awake to its dangers.* 
 
 As a relief to the threats of the secular arm, let us conclude with 
 the Eden sermon. The version presented is taken from Mr. London's 
 account, at present the only available source of matter that is much 
 older than his time in the Western Pacific, a brief sojourn at that. 
 He introduces it in the following statement : 
 
 Some years ago large numbers of Solomon Islanders were recruited to 
 labor on the sugar plantations of Queensland. A missionary urged one of 
 the laborers, who was a convert, to get up and preach a sermon to a shipload 
 of Solomon Islanders who had just arrived. He chose for his subject the 
 Fall of Man. 
 
 The story was familiar to me years ago in Australia and it was 
 more than once in print in the newspapers. It was frequently related 
 to me by missionaries in the islands and from more than one such 
 source I learned that the story was popularly credited to the late 
 Bishop Patteson. This version, particularly in the matter of the 
 lavish use of the connectives, is scarcely a fair sample of the jargon 
 in its capacity for extended narrative, but it will serve. 
 
 *Several interesting pages of Mr. Friederici's valuable treatise are devoted to a 
 consideration of this problem. He notes: "In der Kolonie Deutsch-Neuguinea wird in 
 der Tat ein soweitgehenderGebrauch von diesem Jargon gemacht, er istsoabsolut unent- 
 behrlich, dass nicht ganz zu Unrecht die Bemerkung gemacht worden ist, man brauche 
 nur die englische Flagge Tiber unserem schonen Schutzgebiet zu heissen, urn den Findruck 
 zu haben, in einer britisehen Kolonie zu sein." Much as he deplores the use of Beach- 
 la-mar as an English pidgin, much as he desires the introduction and eventual employ- 
 ment of German in the German colonies, he recognizes the great difficulty which besets 
 the introduction of even so primary a substitute as some sort of Pidgin-German. 
 
32 
 
 BEACH-IvA-MAR. 
 
 THE EDEN SERMON. 
 
 Altogether you boy belong Solomon you no savvy white man. Me fella 
 me sawee him. Me fella me sawee talk along white man. 
 
 Before long time altogether no place he stop. God big fella marster 
 belong white man, him fella he make'm altogether. God big fella marster 
 belong white man, he make'm big fella garden. He good fella too much. 
 Along garden plenty yam he stop, plenty coconut, plenty taro, plenty 
 kumara, altogether good fella kaikai too much, 
 
 Bimeby God big fella marster belong white man, he make'm one fella 
 man and put'm along garden belong him. He call'm this fella man Adam. 
 He name belong him. He put him this fella man Adam along garden, and 
 he speak, ' ' This fella garden he belong you. ' ' And he look'm this fella Adam 
 he walk about too much. Him fella Adam all the same sick; he no sawee 
 kaikai; he walkabout all the time. And God he no sawee. God big fella 
 marster belong white man, God say: "What name? Me no sawee what 
 name this fella Adam he want." 
 
 Bimeby God he speak : ' ' Me fella me sawee, him fella Adam him want'm 
 mary." So he make Adam he go sleep, he take'm one fella bone belong 
 him, and he make'm one fella mary along bone. He call'em this fella mary 
 Eve. He give'm this fella Eve along Adam, and he speak along him fella 
 Adam: "Close up altogether along this fella garden belong you two fella. 
 One fella tree he tambo along you altogether. This fella tree belong apple." 
 
 So Adam Eve two fella stop along garden, and they fella have'm good 
 time too much. Bimeby one day Eve she come along Adam, and she speak 
 "More good you me two fella we eat'm this fella apple." Adam he speak 
 no, and Eve she speak "what name you no like'm me?" And Adam he 
 speak "me like'm you too much, but me fright along God." And Eve she 
 speak: "Gammon! What name? God he no sawee look along us two fella 
 all'm time. God big fella marster he gammon, along you." But Adam he 
 speak no. But Eve she talk, talk, talk allee time, allee same mary she talk 
 along boy along Queensland, and make'm trouble along boy. And bimeby 
 Adam he tired too much, and he speak "All right." So these two fella they 
 go eat'm. When they finish eat'm, my word, they fright like hell and they 
 go hide along scrub. 
 
 And God he come walk about along garden, and he sing out "Adam!" 
 Adam he no speak. He too much fright. My word. And God he sing out 
 "Adam!" And Adam he speak, "You call'm me?" God he speak, "Me 
 call'm you too much." Adam he speak " Me sleep strong fella too much." 
 And God he speak, "You been eat'm this fella apple." Adam he speak 
 ' ' No, me no been eat'm . " God he speak : ' ' What name you gammon along 
 me. You been eat'm." And Adam he speak, "Yes, me been eat'm." 
 
 And God big fella marster he cross along Adam Eve two fella too much, 
 and he speak : " You two fella finish along me altogether. You go catch'm 
 bokkis belong you, and get to hell along scrub." 
 
 So Adam Eve these two fella go along scrub. And God he make'm one 
 big fennis all around garden and he put'm one fella marster belong God 
 along fennis. And he give this fella marster belong God one big fella musket 
 and he speak "S'pose you look'm these two fella Adam Eve you shoot'm 
 plenty too much." 
 
BEACH-LA-MAR VOCABULARY. 
 
 a he keep a bee there. G 243. 
 
 all a Malekula man he say. G 207. 
 about only in walk about, run about. 
 adrift freely used in the sailor sense of to 
 be unfastened. 
 make adrift to untie, to loosen, to open, 
 make'm door adrift : open. 
 make'm peasoup adrift: open the tin 
 of meat. 
 ago long time ago. W 290. 
 alive look alive: hurry up, make haste. 
 all all functions as the sign of the plural 
 (more numerous than the dual or 
 trinal). 
 
 1. preceding nouns and pronouns in our 
 
 singular form, 
 all he talk: they say. SG 121. 
 all he cook him belong Mangin. 
 
 SG99. 
 all man: everybody. V 253. 
 all man feel no good. V 252. 
 all man he growl for you. V 25 2 . 
 all a Malekula man he say. G 207. 
 all the boy want to kill me. W 373. 
 
 2. with nouns in our plural form. 
 
 spirit belong all white men no good. 
 P266. 
 
 bymbye all men laugh along that boy. 
 Se 567. 
 all adverbially used. 
 
 suppose this fellow man he sabe he 
 die all finish. SG 25. 
 
 he kaikai all finish. S 304. 
 
 he make'm one big fennis all around 
 garden. L 364. 
 
 he all bone. V 254. 
 all see all right, all same, all time. 
 alligator crocodile. R 105. 
 
 This is not essentially jargon, the 
 islanders could not make the 
 blunder; it finds its base in the 
 common failure in English to dis- 
 tinguish the two lizards. The 
 " allegory on the banks of the Nile ' ' 
 is a glass-house stone thrown reck- 
 lessly at a good woman who but 
 followed the error of those who 
 should have known better than to 
 dub Crocodilus niloticus an alli- 
 gator, 
 along 
 
 1. possessive sign, more commonly belong. 
 
 bone along me; heart along him; eye 
 along him. V 254. 
 
 me sawee talk along white man. 
 L362. 
 
 rope along bush: liana. R 97. 
 
 along 
 
 2. objective sign. 
 
 gammpn along him. L 361, 363. 
 kaikai along me. L 361, 362. 
 what name you sing out along me? 
 
 L362. 
 fight alonga him. W 290. 
 
 3. at, objective. 
 
 god he no sawee look along us two 
 fella all'm time. L 363. 
 
 bymbye all men laugh along that boy. 
 Se 567. 
 
 he cross along Adam Eve. L 363. 
 
 4. sign of the indirect object, to. 
 
 he give'm this fella Eve along Adam. 
 
 L363. 
 make'm trouble along boy. L 363. 
 
 5. sign of an ethical dative. 
 
 you two fella finish along me alto- 
 gether. L 364. 
 
 6. locative; in, at, on, into. 
 
 he stop along his island. W 349. 
 
 stop along Vila. W 144. 
 
 he find him along reef. Se 173. 
 
 he put'm this fella Adam along garden. 
 L363. 
 
 kaikai meat along butcher. R 108. 
 
 stop all time along Mabuiag. V 232. 
 
 so Adam Eve two fella stop along 
 garden. L 363. 
 
 close up altogether along this fella 
 ' garden belong you two fella. 
 L 363. (Observe the verb value: 
 close up almost, altogether every- 
 thing, along that is in.) 
 
 talk along boy along Queensland. 
 L363. 
 
 they go hide along scrub. L 363. 
 
 he put'm one fella marster belong god 
 along fennis. L 364. 
 
 7. locative; aboard of. 
 
 he come along Ceara. W 349. 
 plenty boy along ship. W 386. 
 
 8. along. 
 
 go look'm eye belong you along deck. 
 
 1*359- 
 
 9. because of. 
 
 me fright along god. L 363. 
 
 10. for, duration of time. 
 
 you been take me along three year. 
 W 373. 
 
 11. for, for the purpose of. 
 
 spear good along fight. Se 560. 
 you fellow strong along fight. Se 
 560. 
 
 12. out of. 
 
 he make'm one fella mary along bone. 
 L.363. 
 
 33 
 
34 
 
 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 along 
 
 13- to. 
 
 he speak along this fella Adam. L 
 
 363. 
 one fella tree he tambo along you 
 
 altogether. L 363. 
 Eve she come along Adam. L 363. 
 she talk along boy. L 363. 
 get to hell along scrub. L 364. 
 go along scrub. L 364. 
 go alonga home. W 349. 
 make rope fast along head. V 254. 
 
 14. with. 
 
 go along my man. V 252. 
 
 15. all along same as: to resemble. The 
 
 value of along does not appear in 
 comparison with the simple all 
 same. 
 
 altogether adjectively in the sense of all, 
 everything, without suggestion of 
 grammatical number, 
 close up altogether along this fella 
 
 garden. L 363. 
 we buy yam altogether: all you have. 
 W15. 
 Adverbially. 
 
 1. wholly, quite. 
 
 one fella tree he tambo along you 
 
 altogether. L 363. 
 god big fella belong white man him 
 
 fella he make'm altogether. L 363 . 
 
 2. unanimously. 
 
 what for you speak three year? Very 
 good you speak three moon. Sup- 
 pose you no speak three moon 
 altogether, boy he stop Queensland 
 three year. No good. W 373. 
 
 3. altogether — no: not at all. 
 
 altogether you boy belong Solomons 
 
 you no sawee white man. L 362. 
 before long time altogether no place 
 
 he stop. L 363. 
 and conjunction. 
 
 pappa belong me he go finish yes'er- 
 
 day, and I bring him head. G 223. 
 more better you come out and you 
 
 get water. Se 383. 
 he make'm one fella man, and he 
 
 put'm along garden. L 363. 
 another of diversity in general. 
 
 another fellow man. Se 444. 
 another kind of: different. V 252. 
 savvy another kind : to know better, 
 he small now, bymbye he big he savy 
 
 that another kind. Se 623. 
 apple the determining characters appear to 
 be rotundity and thin skin, 
 and god he speak "you been eat'm 
 
 this fella apple?" L 363. 
 Used also of the malay-apple, the 
 
 rose-apple, the mammy-apple, and 
 
 the onion, the latter being apple 
 
 belong stink. 
 around see also round. 
 
 one big fennis all around garden. L 
 
 364- 
 
 as all along same as. V 252. 
 
 This is the sole mention of as; it sug- 
 gests the decadence of a jargon bent 
 on parsing and consequent destruc- 
 tion. 
 
 bad the ppposite of good and well. 
 
 1. you very bad man, too much gammon 
 
 blackfellow. Ro 252. 
 he come back because of bad road 
 
 R 136. 
 you give me bad word. V 252, 
 he feel something bad in heart: angry. 
 
 V252. 
 inside bad: grieved. V 253. 
 bad inside: sorry. V 254. 
 
 2. to make bad: to do harm to. 
 
 I think that fellow he make bad for 
 misinari. G 232. 
 
 3. ill, sick. 
 
 him fellow belly go bad: to have a 
 stomach ache. 
 
 bal bowels. (Laur,Lambell,Eing,l^amassa, 
 
 bald; Efate, bwala.) 
 
 woman he hear him, bal belong him 
 he move. SG 123. 
 be no be fraid. SG 24. 
 
 This is the sole instance of the sub- 
 stantive verb in the literature of 
 the subject; be is, nevertheless, 
 very frequently in use, this being a 
 quite natural result of the cheerful 
 custom of the sailors to address the 
 islanders in picturesquely rein- 
 forced imperatives. 
 
 beat heart beat hard: excited. V 253. 
 
 A suspiciously accurate statement; in 
 Beach-la-mar all locutions involv- 
 ing the heart seem to be recent ac- 
 quisitions from the store of knowl- 
 edge acquired by the Polynesian 
 preachers, 
 because of on account of. 
 
 he come back because of bad road: 
 said of a yam which comes out of 
 the ground. R 136- .. ,. 
 
 The precision of the preposition 0/ is 
 but of harmony with the jargon, 
 and Mr. Ray has not included it 
 specifically in his vocabulary 
 thereof. 
 bee one time Lamanian man he keep a bee 
 there; now I think the bee ne 
 clear out. G 243. . 
 
 For a second reference to this exotic 
 insect example of unstimulating 
 industry see sugar-bag. 
 been the common device to express past 
 time of action. 
 
 you been take me along three year. 
 
 yo^oeen eat'm this fella apple? 
 L 363- 
 
VOCABULARY. 
 
 35 
 
 been 
 
 you been broke ship belonga me. 
 
 Wi44- 
 I been look round before. V 254. 
 
 before earlier in time. 
 
 before long time altogether no place 
 
 he stop. L 363- 
 I been look round before. V 254. 
 
 behind rearward in space. 
 
 very good you no go firs', that fellow 
 stop behin'. G 207. 
 
 bell the metal bell and the smaller wooden 
 drums, 
 bokkis belong bell. L 361. 
 The aboriginal box was carefully ex- 
 cavated along the length of a tree 
 trunk and a cover fitted to the open 
 end. The first sailors in these 
 waters found that their sea chests 
 were highly regarded in barter. 
 In the labor trade an invariable part 
 of the payment was a box, the 
 manufacture of which offered a 
 profitable industry to Chinese 
 joiners. One such mechanic in 
 Fiji introduced the bell lock and 
 leaped into a monopoly, for the 
 islanders were quick to comprehend 
 the burglar-alarm value of a lock 
 which would ring warning when 
 any attempt was made to tamper 
 with it. 
 
 belly the trunk cavity, both thoracic and 
 
 abdominal, 
 belly belong me walk about too much : 
 
 to be seasick. L 360. 
 mybellynogotkaikai: to be hungry. 
 
 V253. 
 short man big belly. HW 53. 
 him fellow belly go bad: to have the 
 
 stomach ache. 
 
 belong see along, long. 
 
 1. to live |in, to be a native of, to be a 
 
 member of. 
 he belong Burriburrigan. W 349. 
 docta belong' bush. SG 45. 
 boy belong island. W 373. 
 big fellow master plenty too much 
 
 belong Cocopur. HW 53. 
 he no proper man belong my place. 
 
 Se 441. 
 all same belong mainland. R 120. 
 me belong a Iniet. SG 121. 
 
 2. the common expression of the relation 
 
 of possession, 
 tail belong him. R 118. 
 boy belong me. SG 29. 
 pappa belong me. G 223. 
 you kitch him money belong you. 
 
 SG 24. 
 spirit belong all white men no good. 
 
 P 266. 
 wife belong you no got water. Se 
 
 383, 560. 
 
 belong 
 
 that fellow belong you? no belong 
 
 me. L 362. 
 god big fella marster belong white 
 
 man. L 363. 
 
 3. introducing a quality. 
 
 that fella tree belong apple. L 363. 
 water belong stink. Re 114. 
 apple belong stink. 
 
 4. introducing other relations. 
 
 canoe belong play. V 254. 
 no proper word belong talk. Se 587. 
 very good belonga yam. W 122. 
 fellow belong simoke: cigar holder. 
 Re 114. 
 
 5. introducing verbs. 
 
 very good belong boil yam. W 122. 
 how much you pay belong stop along 
 Vila? W 144. 
 
 6. sense properly expressed by along q. v. 
 {a) in reference to. 
 
 me fraid belong kanaka he like kill 
 you me. S 127. 
 (6) to. 
 
 bymby you go belong Sydney. SG 
 
 24- 
 
 talk plenty bad belong man : to swear 
 
 at. V 254. 
 you "bring this belong master. S 301 . 
 (c) direct object. 
 
 he puss-puss belong this fellow. 
 SG 123. 
 below see down below. 
 best best thing you learn us. V 254. 
 better better; more better: ought to. V 
 
 more better you come out. Se 383. 
 have better class inside: appetite. 
 V 253- 
 big of magnitude and multitude. 
 
 1. of size. 
 
 big food: a feast. V 253; HW 53. 
 man Sandwich make big wind. W 
 
 144. 
 he small now, bymbye he big. Se 623 
 big big man: important. V 253. 
 talk big: to promise. V 253. 
 
 2. with fellow, 
 (a) of size. 
 
 big fellow name. SG 23, 24, 112. 
 G 198. 
 (6) of dumber. 
 
 I think you give me big fellow to- 
 bacco. G 223. 
 (c) as noun. 
 
 big fellow he cry. Re 114. 
 bit brief, small, as a measure. 
 
 hold on a bit: wait. V 254. 
 
 little bit: slightly. V 254. 
 
 come a little bit good: to improve. 
 
 V 253. 
 long way little bit. L 360. 
 little bit dry. R in. 
 I eatum jus' little fellow bit. G 246. 
 long way big bit. L 360. 
 bite to prick, to pierce, to be pungent. 
 
 color like curry, he bite too. R 95. 
 
36 
 
 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 blackf ellow the aboriginal. 
 
 too much gammon blackfellow. Ro 
 
 253. 
 This, the common Australian desig- 
 nation of the aborigines of that 
 continent, seems to be employed in 
 Beach-la-mar less frequently; the 
 foregoing is the only instance of its 
 use which I have found in print. 
 Nigger is equally rare. 
 blackman the aboriginal. 
 
 big fella marster belong blackman: 
 chief. L 359. 
 
 Baron von Hesse-Wartegg (53) cites 
 the description of a kanaka clad in 
 white as "whitefellow blackman." 
 As a globe-trotter and a German 
 he lost the sense of the impropriety 
 in this collocation; it would go 
 hard, and that very suddenly, 
 with a kanaka whose vocabulary 
 included this expression within the 
 hearing of a plantation overseer. 
 blood blood, sap of trees. 
 
 he full up blood he kill him. Se 563. 
 bloody strong qualification. 
 
 I bloody fool. V 253. 
 
 a bloody rogue. V 253. 
 
 This, expletive in Austral English and 
 regarded as such profanity as calls 
 for the awesome dash in print, is 
 not even intensive in Beach-la-mar; 
 the same characterization holds in 
 respect of damn, which is alto- 
 gether milder than bloody in 
 Colonial speech. The employment 
 of profanity, even the most shock- 
 ing, by the kanaka is innocent and 
 imitative; his habit of mind finds 
 no joy in curt damns, objurgation 
 with him is a protracted, a complete 
 and altogether a soul-satisfying 
 art not lightly to be shorn of its 
 patiently evolved finish. 
 
 boat boat, ship. 
 
 me sawee look out along boat. 
 L361. 
 
 This is used only of foreign boats, the 
 island craft being invariably canoe 
 or of some dialectic form of vaka. 
 boil a rare process in island cookery. 
 
 belong boil yam. W 122. 
 
 Commonly no attempt at differenti- 
 ation is made and cook covers fill 
 culinary processes. 
 bone bone, stone. 
 
 my bone creaked; bone along me 
 slew: to be bewitched. V 252. 
 
 he all bone got no meat: to be thin. 
 
 V 254- 
 he take one fella bone belong him and 
 
 he make'm one fella mary along 
 
 bone. L 363. 
 no good garden, too much bone: 
 
 stony ground. 
 boom boom, sprit, gaff. 
 
 that fella boom he walk about too 
 
 much. L 360. 
 
 boss a modern Australian contribution, 
 master; to order about. V 253. 
 both in dual sense. 
 
 me Sandfly both speak. W 373. 
 This is the only instance I have found 
 of both; in classic Beach-la-mar 
 this dual would be expressed "me 
 Sandfly two fellow speak." 
 bottle see square-face. 
 
 cooky fetch one fellow bottle some- 
 thing makee cold. HW 97. 
 box case, chest, trunk. 
 
 big fellow bokus you fight him he cry: 
 
 piano, 
 little fellow bokus you shove him he 
 cry, you pull him he cry: accordeon 
 or concertina, 
 woman leg you got in one fellow box. 
 
 G 260. 
 bokkis belong bell. L 361, 364. 
 boy the use of 6031 regardless of age is char- 
 acteristic wherever the English 
 dominate a less assertive race. 
 
 1. a general term for man. 
 
 you look out belong boy belong me. 
 
 SG29. 
 some boy he get him spear. Se 560. 
 plenty boy die. W 349, 15. 
 boy belong island. W 373. 
 
 2, in the common English sense. 
 
 he small boy: a foolish roan. V 253. 
 bread sea-biscuit or other crackers; soft 
 bread is not wholly practicable in 
 island life, but where it is known 
 it is called falaoa (flour), 
 break out that bread: open that tin 
 of biscuit. 
 break to. smash, to come to pieces. 
 
 1. in the intransitive sense. 
 
 head belong him he break plenty. 
 
 G 198. 
 yam he break very quick suppose you 
 
 no put him down very good. G 
 
 237. 
 
 2. transitive. 
 
 my word, cappen, that fellow break 
 plenty match: the kanaka com- 
 ment at first sight of a revolving 
 lighthouse. W 97. 
 break out that bread: open that tin 
 ' of biscuit. This (the sailor breaks 
 out cargo) is used only of the larger 
 containers. 
 broke 
 
 1. intransitive. 
 
 cappen he broke W 97. 
 
 2. transitive. 
 
 man Sandwich make big wind, big 
 wind broke ship belonga me. W 
 144. 
 
 bring I do not recall the word, the sense is 
 far more commonly expressed by 
 the locution you take him he come. 
 
 brother brother, sister, cousin; in some 
 places all persons born in the same 
 year, as determined by the yam 
 harvest, are brothers, 
 they like brother: to be friendly. 
 V253. 
 
VOCABULARY. 
 
 37 
 
 bugger up one of the disfigurements com- 
 ing from Austral English. 
 to spoil. V 254. 
 
 bullamacow (pulumakau). London (361) 
 says: 
 "Bullamacow means tinned beef. 
 This word was corrupted from the 
 English language by the Samoans, 
 and from them learned by the 
 traders, who carried it along with 
 them into Melanesia. Captain 
 Cook and the other early naviga- 
 tors made a practice of introducing 
 seeds, plants, and domestic animals 
 amongst the natives. It was at 
 Samoa that one such navigator 
 landed a bull and a cow. 'This is 
 a bull and a cow,' said he to the 
 Samoans. They thought he was 
 giving the name of the breed, and 
 from that day to this beef on the 
 hoof and beef in the tin is called 
 bullamacow." 
 The word can not be Samoan because 
 of the absence of the true k from 
 that language, and it is not in use 
 in that archipelago, where pisupo 
 (peasoup, q. v.) serves for tinned 
 beef. With more of circumstance 
 the invention of the neologism is 
 credited to the Fijians on the intro- 
 duction of cattle by the mission- 
 aries. Pidomokau is found (s. v. 
 beef) in the English vocabulary of 
 the second edition of Hazlewood's 
 dictionary of that language (1872). 
 It is quite generally used in the 
 Beach-la-mar. 
 
 bulopenn Dr. Stephan (SG 20) cautions 
 the collector of New Ireland lan- 
 guages not to record bulopenn as 
 the word for ornament, since it is 
 only a scrambled form of blue 
 paint. It affords an interesting 
 example of the local development 
 of jargon: we find many such 
 words in local use; it was only in 
 the mixture of the plantation and 
 the labor trade that they found 
 exit to a wider currency which 
 might establish them as a part of 
 the Beach-la-mar. 
 
 burn cook is better usage in this sense. 
 
 man Matupi fight along him burn 
 house. W 290. 
 
 bush the jungle sense has developed in 
 English since the American hived 
 off. 
 
 l. in general all land not under cultivation 
 or occupation for residence, whether 
 covered with forest or with alang 
 grass. 
 
 bush stop far off gardens there: land 
 under tilth. Se 614. 
 
 rope along bush: liana. R97. 
 
 bush 
 
 2. with a wholesome regard of the wild 
 
 inhabitants, 
 docta belong bush: necromancer. 
 
 SG45. 
 man bush. Glaumont, Nouvelles- 
 
 Hebrides 71. 
 
 3. of the individual plants. 
 
 small bush in gardens: weeds. R 122 
 
 but the authority is not wholly satisfactory 
 for this single instance, 
 but plenty kaikai; yes, but me like 
 liklik work liklik kaikai. SG 29. 
 
 butcher kaikai meat along butcher. R 108 
 buy you buy boy? you buy yam? W 15. 
 by-and-by it is susceptible of loose quali- 
 fication, bymby one time (day) im- 
 mediately after now, bymby Utile 
 bit,- bymby big bit, bymby long time. 
 
 1. of futurity in general. 
 
 you kitch him, by-and-by you go 
 
 belong Sydney. SG 24. 
 by-nd-by this fellow he die. SG 26. 
 bom-by me come back and eaty you. 
 
 J 97- 
 bymbye he sorry he no take him. 
 
 Se 444. 
 bymbye all men laugh along that boy. 
 
 Se 567. 
 he small now, bymbye he big. Se 
 
 623. 
 hear um sing out, by-n'-by hear um 
 
 plenty smell. G 259. 
 
 2. of futurity relative to a past time. 
 
 by-and-by boy belong island he 
 
 speak. W373. 
 bimeby one day Eve she come along 
 
 Adam. L 363. 
 by-n'-by he speak wantum one fellow 
 
 water. G 198. 
 that fellow stop behin', by-n'-by he 
 
 go on, then you coming. G 207. 
 
 calaboose Spanish through sailor English. 
 
 a prison. S301. 
 
 you catch 'em man bush, you put 'em 
 calaboose. What name? Him 
 plenty kaikai too much. The 
 sentence of this being, what's the 
 earthly use of a penology which 
 pampers the criminal. 
 
 calico this term covers all woven fabrics in 
 trade, 
 yes, me like calico. W 123. 
 
 call 
 
 1. to give a name to. 
 
 he call'm this fella man Adam. L363. 
 
 2. to hav? a name. 
 
 what'm call this fellow? 
 
 3. to summon. 
 
 god he speak "me call'm you too 
 much." L 363. 
 
38 
 
 BEACH-IvA-MAR. 
 
 canoe V 254. 
 
 Dialectic variants of vaka, the Poly- 
 nesian word for canoe, are in famil- 
 iar use, waka and wangga having 
 the widest currency. 
 
 can't all same dark you can't see. Se 610. 
 This is the only instance discovered 
 of a potential, no savvy more com- 
 monly serving that end. In my ex- 
 perience such a question as "can 
 you do this?" would be answered 
 "me make 'urn" or "me no make 
 'urn." This seems all the more 
 remarkable when we recall how large 
 a part can plays in the Pidgin of the 
 China coast, even as long ago as 
 1743, as shown in this instance 
 from Commodore Anson's voyage, 
 "Chinese man very great rogue 
 truly, but have fashion, no can 
 help." 
 
 captain cited as cap (W 290), cappen (W 
 373), captain (HW 97). 
 The word is generally understood but 
 seldom employed by the islanders, 
 except when Captain and the 
 patronymic pass for a man's name 
 (e. g. Cap Wan W 290). The 
 reason therefor may inhere in the 
 fact that it is not a habit of the 
 kanaka mind to address individ- 
 uals by title of rank or relation- 
 ship. 
 
 capsize the expression is general in the 
 whole range of senses of overturn- 
 ing, emptying, pouring. 
 
 "One would not tell a Melanesian 
 cook to empty the dishwater, but 
 to capsize it." L 361. 
 
 you make him capsize that fellow 
 yam: to spill. G207. 
 
 carry see hump. 
 
 mary belong Malekula man she 
 carry yam all-a-time. G 207. 
 
 catch 
 
 1. to take, to get, to obtain, to have. 
 
 you go catch'm bokkis belong you. 
 L 364. 
 
 you kitch him by-and-by you go be- 
 long Sydney, white man hear him, 
 he put money, you kitch him 
 money belong you. SG 24. 
 
 suppose me kitch him grass. SG 25. 
 
 2. to take hold of. 
 
 woman he look him, he run him, he 
 kitch this fellow man, he speak 
 him puss-puss. SG 123. 
 
 3. other uses. 
 
 by-and-by I catch you: to find one 
 
 out. V 253. 
 he catch him place: to arrive. V 252. 
 
 chance this fellow he kaikai you if he get 
 chance. Wa 152. 
 
 chief very good you go look chief belongs 
 me. W 143. 
 The word is in the most general use, 
 therefore it would not have been 
 necessary for Mr. London's sea 
 captain to say "hring'm me fella 
 one big fella marster belong black 
 man." He would have been com- 
 prehended, but later the comment 
 would have been passed "that 
 fella no savvy talk proper" and 
 just a shade of accent resting on 
 fella would indicate that the savage 
 had his opinion of a white man who 
 would call himself "me fella." 
 
 child child he come out: to be born. V252. 
 This is the only recorded example of 
 anything but pickaninny in the 
 sense of child. 
 
 chuck he chuck fishing line. V 254. 
 
 he no chuck him bone: to throw 
 
 away. V 254. 
 Heave is far more common in the 
 sense of throwing. 
 
 cigar Re 114. 
 
 clam any shell fish. 
 
 small fella clam, kaikai he stop. 
 L360. 
 
 class have better class inside: appetite. 
 V252. 
 
 clear out to go away. 
 
 now I think bee he clear out. G 243. 
 
 close up 
 
 1. almost, nearly. 
 
 he close up sink. V 253. 
 close up altogether along that fella 
 garden belong you two fella. 
 
 L363. 
 
 close up daylight. V 253. 
 
 2. soon. V 254. 
 coconut 
 
 1 . the tree and fruit. 
 
 along garden plenty yam he stop, 
 plenty coconut. L 363. 
 
 2. the head. 
 
 coconut belong him grass no stop: to 
 be bald. 
 cold take cold heart: mild-tempered. 
 
 one fellow bottle something makee 
 cold. HW97- 
 color color like curry, he bite too. R 95- 
 come ... 
 
 1 . in general, though not rigidly, anti- 
 
 thetic to go. 
 he know he come along Ceara. W349. 
 bimeby one day Eve she come along 
 
 Adam. L 363. 
 he no sileep, he come, he puss-puss 
 
 belong this fellow. SG 123. 
 god he come walk about along garden. 
 
 L363. 
 
 2. governing the terminus ad quem. 
 
 suppose you come my place you look 
 out, my word. Ro 252. 
 
 3. in the sense of become. 
 
 he come a little bit good: to improve. 
 V253. 
 
VOCABULARY. 
 
 39 
 
 come 
 
 4. to bring, to fetch. 
 
 you take him he come : to bring here. 
 
 Re 114. 
 I think he plenty cross that schooner 
 
 no takee-him come-him friend. 
 
 G232. 
 
 5. come back: to return. 
 
 he come back because of bad road. 
 
 R136. 
 
 6. where you come from? Wis. 
 
 7. more better you come out and get 
 
 water. Se 383. 
 child he come out: to be born. V252 
 
 8. come up: to rise, to be raised. 
 
 sun he come up he go work. W 349, 
 
 L 360. 
 land he come up. SG 30. 
 
 9. brother belong tamiok (an axe) he come 
 
 he go: a saw. F 100. 
 
 coming by-n'-by he go on then you 
 
 coming. G 207. 
 cook to cook in any manner, to burn. 
 
 all he cook him belong Mangin: all 
 
 Mangin's property is burned after 
 
 his death. SG 99. 
 fire he cook'm plenty too much: to 
 
 be ablaze, 
 cook him small hot: partly done. 
 
 V253. 
 
 cooky a cook, any servant. 
 
 copper as aboard ship, the common desig- 
 nation of any pot or similar cooking 
 utensil of metal. 
 
 copper-maori oven R 90, 168. 
 
 "This word is as widely spread in the 
 South Sea islands as kaikai. Dr. 
 Codrington states that it is a com- 
 pound of kopa, English copper, and 
 maori, a native of New Zealand. 
 Hence it is the 'Maori's copper,' 
 a term used by traders, whalers, 
 etc., to designate the native 
 method of cooking." It seems to 
 me that it is going a long way to 
 connect maori with the Maori 
 when so much nearer at hand the 
 word is widespread in its proper 
 signification of native, indigenous. 
 
 creaked my bone creaked: to be bewitched 
 V252. 
 
 crooked he talk too much crooked: to de- 
 ceive. V 253. 
 
 cross this covers every degree of anger and 
 its expression. I recall that a 
 blunder in navigation which might 
 have resulted disastrously induced 
 me to admonish a Mwala boy, and 
 at the time I flattered myself that 
 my choice of expletives was scath- 
 ing yet well selected. The only 
 comment from the victim of the 
 vituperation was: "My word, me 
 fella think you plenty cross along 
 me too much." 
 
 cross 
 
 god big fella marster he cross along 
 Adam Eve two fella too much. 
 L364. 
 
 me cross long woman me rauss him. 
 SG 109. 
 
 he plenty cross that schooner no 
 takee him. G 232. 
 
 inside him he cross. V 252. 
 cry to make a noise with the voice or with 
 a sounding instrument, to wail, to 
 sing, to weep; this lack of discrimi- 
 nation is characteristic of the lan- 
 guages at large, e. g. the Polynesian 
 tangi which is widely disseminated 
 in Melanesia as a loan word (see 
 "The Polynesian Wanderings" 
 page 412.) 
 
 what name lady he maki cry. SG27. 
 
 big fellow bokkus you fight him he 
 cry: piano. 
 
 little fellow bokkus you shove him he 
 cry you pull him he cry : accordeon. 
 
 make no more cry: to comfort. R 
 144. 
 
 cry like hell. V 254. 
 curry color like curry, he bite too. R 95. 
 cutter any vessel of one fixed mast. G 198, 
 R252. 
 
 dark all same dark you can't see. Se 610. 
 day by-n'-by one day. L363. 
 daylight small daylight: early morning. 
 R 142 
 small fellow daylight: daybreak. V 
 
 253- 
 he look daylight a long time: to lie 
 awake. V 252. 
 
 dead what name we go Ambrym, you no 
 good, you dead. G 198. 
 go dead; to die. 
 
 deck L359. 
 
 devil ghost, spirit. V 253. 
 
 make him devil: to perform funeral 
 ceremonies. V 253. 
 
 devil-devil a death dance. V 253. 
 
 When reprobating the conduct of 
 sailors who for their own idle amuse- 
 ment crowd the lips of these eager 
 savages with uncomprehended in- 
 famies of speech, it seems a little 
 shabby to inflict upon the unwit- 
 ting islander so polemic a charact- 
 erization of the impropriety of his 
 ancestral beliefs and customs. 
 But such an enforced petitio 
 principii is by no means restricted 
 to the practice of traders and other 
 seafaring folk; the missionaries in 
 Fiji labored with considerable suc- 
 cess to establish for the islanders 
 of that archipelago the belief that 
 devil was the proper English ren- 
 dering of Fijian. 
 
40 
 
 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 die suppose me kitch him grass he die. 
 SG 25, 121. 
 More commonly go dead. 
 dinner that fellow place you eatum dinner. 
 
 G259. 
 do he no good, what for he do that if girl no 
 want him. Se 567. 
 what name he do that: how did it 
 happen, how was it done? V 253. 
 doctor docta belong bush: necromancer. 
 SG45. 
 doctal: Dr. Hahl, governor of the 
 Bismarck Archipelago, as pro- 
 nounced by island tongues. SG 20. 
 door not only the door of a house of Euro- 
 pean construction, but it is ex- 
 tended to the lid of a box and to the 
 operculum of the common univalve 
 Turbo petholatus. 
 make'm door adrift: to open. 
 down you no put him down. G 207. 
 
 me two fellow me fight down below: 
 in the tweendecks. SG 22. 
 tumble down: to die. 
 dream man he dream himhe find him along 
 
 reef. Se 173. 
 drink me fellow me drink him. SG 27. 
 dry little bit dry. R 1 1 1 . 
 
 eat kai or haikai is a far more frequent ex- 
 pression of this sense. 
 
 well, I eatum just little fellow bit. 
 G 246, 259- 
 
 we eat'm this fella apple. L 363. 
 
 english the islanders' designation of Beach- 
 la-mar. 
 that fellow whiteman no savvy talk 
 English. S 300. 
 eye put eye on me too much: to stare at. 
 V254. 
 go look'm eye belong you along deck. 
 1*359- 
 
 far bush stop far off. Se 614. 
 fashion, fash' custom, manner. 
 
 old time fashion. Se 323. 
 
 long time fashion. V 253. 
 
 fashion belong we fellow. V 253. 
 
 one fashion: alike. V253. 
 
 Santo fash': ix la mode d'Espiritu 
 Santo — the force of the adjective 
 being geographical rather than 
 hagiographic. 
 
 A similar use seems once to have been 
 very common in the sailor English. 
 "Shipshape and Bristol (or Brister) 
 fashion" is a survival, though not 
 exactly comprehended as to the 
 latter member. "My country 
 fashion" is found in Robinson 
 Crusoe. 
 
 fast 
 
 1. the speed sense is more commonly ex- 
 
 pressed by quick and look alive. 
 
 2. fastened, stuck, aground. 
 
 that ship he fast: on the reef. 
 
 my throat he fast: to be dumb. V 
 
 253- 
 make fast. V 254. 
 make rope fast along head. V 254. 
 father father mother he no wild. Se 567. 
 small father: the father's younger 
 brother. V253. 
 feel feel no good: to be ashamed. V252. 
 feel inside: to know. V 253. 
 feel another kind inside: to change 
 
 one's mind. V 252. 
 he feel something bad in heart: to be 
 angry. V 252. 
 fellow 
 
 1. functioning as noun. 
 
 no be fraid Jonni, he good fellow. SG 
 24. 
 he good fella too much. L 363. 
 
 2. in adjective use. 
 
 (a) definitive of pronouns: see this fellow, 
 
 that fellow, me fellow, you fellow; 
 note — pronouns of the third person 
 .seem not to employ or to need the 
 reinforcement of fellow. 
 
 (b) definitiveof adjectives: see big fellow, 
 
 small fellow, strong fellow, another 
 fellow. 
 
 (c) with numerals. 
 
 two fellow men, three fellow bottle. 
 
 HW53. 
 ten fellow ten one fellow: 101. HW 
 
 63. 
 fence god he make'm big fennis all around 
 
 garden. L 364. 
 fetch cooky fetch one fellow bottle. HW 
 
 '97- 
 This is more idiomatically expressed 
 
 by take 'em he come. 
 fight to strike. Re 114. 
 
 me two fellow me fight. SG 22. 
 big fellow bokus you fight him he cry: 
 
 piano, 
 big fellow bokkes suppose misses he 
 
 fight him he cry too much: piano. 
 
 F 100. 
 spear good along fight. Se 560. 
 man Matupi fight along him. W290. 
 you fellow strong along fight. Se5<So. 
 when kaikai he fight: when eaten it 
 
 smarts, said of a pungent Morinda. 
 
 Rgi- 
 find more commonly catch. 
 
 he find him along reef. Se 173. 
 fine he no gammon fine yam. V 253. 
 finish 
 
 1. indicative of completion of the action. 
 he stink finish. SG 117. 
 grass belong head belong him all he 
 
 die finish: to be bald. F 100. 
 kill him finished. R 114. 
 me look him finish: I have seen. 
 S301. 
 
VOCABULARY. 
 
 41 
 
 finish 
 
 2. transitive: to kill. V253. 
 
 3. to make an end of. 
 
 when they finish eat 'um. L 363. 
 
 4. to desist. 
 
 finish, finish, you speak too much 
 taboo. SG 121. 
 
 5. all finish. 
 
 suppose this fellow man he sabe he 
 
 die, all finish. SG 23. 
 he kaikai all finish: to eat all up. S 
 
 304. 
 
 6. go finish: to die. 
 
 pappa belong me he go finish yes'er- 
 day. G 223, 198. 
 
 7. you two fella finish along me alto- 
 
 gether: I am done with you. L 364. 
 fire fire he cook'm plenty too much: to be 
 ablaze, 
 fireplace: crater of volcano. G 239. 
 heart belong him all same fire: to be 
 enraged. V 253. 
 first very good you no go firs', that fellow 
 stop behin'. G 207. 
 first time: formerly. V 253. 
 fish fish he stop. L 360. 
 fishing line V 254. 
 fix to do, to make. 
 
 he fix'm that fellow boat. 
 flash make flash: to dress for a dance. 
 V253. 
 put on all flash things: to dress for a 
 
 dance. V 253. 
 ornament. V 253. 
 food more commonly kaikai. 
 
 big food: a feast. V 253. 
 fool make fool of: to cheat. V 252. 
 
 I bloody fool. V 253. Cf. small boy. 
 for all man he growl for you: to be opposed 
 to. V 252. 
 he spell for little: to rest. V253. 
 you fellow look out for spear good 
 along fight, look out good for 
 spear or some boy he get him spear. 
 Se 560. 
 for Mllum man. G 232. 
 make bad for misinari. G 232. 
 no good for. Se 70. 
 what for. Se 567. 
 four two, three, four week. G 260. 
 fowl wild fowl. V 253. 
 fraid see fright. 
 
 too much he fraid long way from 
 
 village. Se 162. 
 what for you fraid? W 258. 
 no be fraid Jonni, he good fellow. 
 
 SG24. 
 me fraid belong kanaka he like kill 
 you me. S 127. 
 friend a term of frequent use yet of im- 
 perfect amity, 
 he plenty cross that schooner no 
 takee-him come-him friend. G 
 232. 
 
 fright he too much fright: afraid. Se552- 
 my word, they fright like hell. L 363 . 
 me fright along you too much. L361. 
 
 from long 1 way from village. Se 162. 
 
 full he full up blood he kill him. Se 363. 
 
 game another kind of game: different cere- 
 mony. V 252. 
 gammon (Nicholas found it in use in 1815 
 in New Zealand.) 
 to lie, to exaggerate, to joke. L 360. 
 to cheat, to deceive, to pretend. V 
 
 352-3- 
 bad man too much gammon black- 
 fellow. Ro 252. 
 god big fella marster he gammon 
 
 along you. L 363. 
 expletive: Eve she speak "Gammon! 
 What name?" L 363. 
 no gammon : really. 
 
 he no gammon fine yam. V 233. 
 garden this is restricted to the culture of 
 the islanders, see plantation. 
 bush stop far off gardens there. Se 
 
 614. 
 he make'm big fella garden. L 363. 
 get you get water, wife belong you no got 
 water. Se383. 
 some boy he get him spear: to be 
 
 speared. Se 560. 
 no get him plenty kaikai. W 349. 
 get to hell along scrub. L 364. 
 why you stop him get hurt. Wa 152. 
 this fellow kaikai you if he get chance. 
 Wa 132. 
 girl girls no good. Se 70, 367. 
 give he give'm this fella Eve along Adam. 
 L363. . 
 he give this fella marster belong god 
 
 one big fella musket. L 364. 
 you give me bad word. V 252. 
 you give me good road: to direct 
 aright. V 253. 
 glad he glad for that fish. V 253. 
 go 
 
 1. of motion away. 
 
 boy he like go. W 13. 
 what name we go Ambrym? G 198. 
 very good you no go firs'. G 207. 
 some place me go man no good. L 
 
 361. 
 you go long house belongme. Re 114. 
 by and by you go belong Sydney. 
 
 SQ24. 
 go along my man: to accompany. 
 
 V252. 
 go alonga home. W 349. 
 
 2. to be in motion. 
 
 him fellow go all time: a watch. Re 
 
 3. to become. 
 
 him fellow belly go bad: stomach 
 
 ache, 
 him go dead: to die. 
 by-n'-by he go finish: to die. G 198. 
 
42 
 
 BEACH-I,A-MAR. 
 
 go 
 
 4. inception of an act or state immediately 
 
 designated, 
 sun he go down he go sleep. W 349. 
 these two fella they go eat'm. L 363. 
 they go hide along scrub. L 363. 
 you go catch'm bokkis belong you. 
 
 L364. 
 
 5. let go: to release. V 253. 
 
 let go heart: to covet. V 253. 
 
 6. go down: to descend. 
 
 sun he go down. W 349. 
 
 go-to-hell "Until recently the word for a 
 large bush knife was kwastkwasi, 
 but a man named Kwasikwasiero 
 died not very long ago, so a bush 
 knife is now known as go-to-hell." 
 Se 630. 
 
 good adjective. 
 
 1. he plenty good kaikai, one fellow man; 
 
 plenty good, Missi, all same one 
 
 fellow chicken. G 2 1 2 . 
 you fellow look out for spear good 
 
 along fight. Se 560. 
 they two fella have'm good time too 
 
 much. L363. 
 give me good road : to guide, to direct 
 
 aright. V 253. 
 he come a little bit good : to improve. 
 
 V253. 
 man o' bush very good. W 284. 
 he strong, he good, he true. SG 124. 
 this fellow he good. SG27. 
 he good fella too much. L 363, SG 
 
 24. 
 
 2. in verbal use. 
 
 more good you me two fella we eat'm 
 
 this fella apple. L 363. 
 very good you no go firs.' G 207. 
 
 3. no good. (In use in New Zealand in 
 
 1815, according to Nicholas.) 
 that fellow captain no good only 
 
 takee tea. HW 97. 
 spirit belong all white men no good. 
 
 P266. 
 he no good, what for he do that if girl 
 
 no want him. Se 567, 70. 
 man- Sydney no good, too much salt. 
 
 W384. 
 you no good you dead. G 198. 
 he make all man feel no good: 
 
 ashamed. V 252. 
 no good you talk : it is useless. V 254. 
 no good you kill him: it is wrong. 
 
 V254. 
 good adverb. 
 
 you watch me good. V 25a. 
 yam he break very quick suppose you 
 no put him down very good. G207. 
 look out good for spear. Se 560. 
 got see get. 
 
 1. this almost entirely takes the place of 
 have. 
 he eat woman leg you got in one 
 
 fellow box. G 360. 
 my belly no got kaikai: to be hungry. 
 V353- 
 
 got 
 
 wifebelongyounogotwater. Se383, 
 he got house other side Matupi. W 
 290. 
 
 2. he got good hand: to be skilful. V 254. 
 
 3. you fellow got him: to understand. 
 
 V254. 
 
 grass suppose me kitch him grass he die: to 
 pick flowers. SG 25. 
 coconut belong him grass no stop: to 
 
 be bald, 
 grass belong pigeon: feathers. V253. 
 grave man he savy this fellow grave. Se 
 623. 
 
 grog V 253. 
 
 growl all man he growl for you: every one 
 is against you. V 252. 
 
 to disapprove. V 253. 
 
 to quarrel. V 253. 
 
 half Se46i. 
 
 half-tight: scarcity of water. V253. 
 half way in sky. R 101. 
 hand be got good hand: skilful. V 254. 
 hard 
 
 heart beat hard: to be excited. V 
 
 253- 
 hard up: scarcity of food: V253. 
 have see got. 
 
 they two fella have'm good time too 
 
 much. L 363. 
 have better class inside: appetite. 
 
 V252. 
 he note that when he is used as subject it 
 
 does not seem permissible to use 
 
 the form he-fellow. 
 masculine. 
 
 he tell me takeum cutter. G 198. 
 man he keep a bee there. G 243. 
 Tannaman he eat woman. G 260. 
 this fellow he no sabe talk. SG 20. 
 he likkilik all right now. SG 22. 
 man he dream him he find him along 
 
 reef. Se 162. 
 feminine. 
 
 what name lady he maki cry? SG27, 
 
 no. 
 that fellow mary he no savee carry 
 
 yam. G 207. 
 Queen Victoria he look out. W 386. 
 woman he look him, he run him. 
 
 SG 123. 
 neuter. 
 
 head belong him he break plenty. G 
 
 198. 
 bee he clear out. G 243, SG 23. 
 all he cook him belong Mangin. SG 
 
 99. 
 yam he break very quick. G 207. 
 plural. 
 
 father mother he no wild. Se 567. 
 all a Malekula man he say. G 207. 
 all he talk. SG 121. 
 you savez two white men stop Matupi 
 
 he got house. W 290. 
 
VOCABULARY. 
 
 43 
 
 head more idiomatically coconut. 
 
 he go finish yes'erday and I bring him 
 head. G 223, 198. V 254. ta 
 hear^white man he hear him. SG 24, 123. 
 
 hear um sing out, by-n'-by hear um 
 plenty smell. G 259. 
 heart these are all derived from the Torres 
 Straits region and impress me as a 
 recent refinement due to missionary 
 teaching ; it is not the heart but the 
 liver which is held by the islanders 
 to be the seat of the emotions. 
 
 let go heart: to covet. V 253. 
 
 heart belong him all same fire: to be 
 enraged. V 253. 
 
 heart beat hard: to be excited. V 
 
 253- 
 take cold heart : to be mild tempered. 
 
 V 253. 
 
 I like you proper with my heart 
 
 inside. V 253. 
 heart along him think. V 254. 
 heave to cast, to throw. 
 
 heave up: to vomit. V 254. 
 heavy 
 
 eye along him heavy: to be sleepy. 
 
 V254 
 skin belong me heavy: to be thirsty. 
 
 V 254. 
 hell cf. go-to-hell. 
 
 wail like hell: to be angry. R 1 15. 
 cry like hell. V 254. 
 they fright like hell. L 363. 
 get to hell. L 364. 
 make hell of a noise. R 109. 
 here better this place. 
 
 here no kaikai. SG 10. 
 hide they go hide along scrub. L 363. 
 him common gender. 
 
 me cross long woman me rauss him. 
 
 SG 109. no, 123. 
 big fellow bokkus you sawee him? 
 medicine belong him. SG 123. 
 possessive. 
 
 I bring him head. G223. It is 
 equally explicable as objective 
 aspect. 
 himself inside tell himself: to consider. 
 
 V253. 
 hold on to wait. V 254. 
 hook it to run away. V253. 
 hospital me takeum cutter big fellow hos- 
 pital. G 198. 
 hot cook him small hot: partly done. V 
 
 253- 
 house you go long house belong me. Re 
 1 14, W 290. 
 house paper: government office. 
 HW92. 
 how how much you pay? W 144. 
 humbug 
 
 make him humbug: to influence with 
 
 charms. V 253. 
 humbug him he no go: to prevent 
 from going. 
 
 humbug 
 
 The latter sense of humbug I have 
 found also in the vocabulary of a 
 negro boatman on Crow Lane, 
 Bermuda, in the phrase "to hum- 
 bug from doing," apparently to 
 prevent through the interposition 
 of obstacles more annoying than 
 serious. 
 
 hump this seems to me the more frequent 
 term for carry, and I recall the ex- 
 pressions "to hump a load," "to 
 hump a pickaninny;" perhaps it 
 may prove to refer to such carrying 
 as is done on the body rather than 
 in the arms or hands, the island 
 languages most uniformly making 
 such distinction. In Australia the 
 phrases " to hump one's bluey (the 
 blanket roll, ) " "to hump the swag, " 
 are common in the speech of 
 bushmen. 
 
 hurt why you stop him get hurt? W 152. 
 
 I see me. 
 
 yes,, I killum all right. G215, 223, 
 232, 246. 
 if see suppose. 
 
 what for he do that if girl no want 
 
 him. Se 567. 
 this fellow kaikai you if he get chance. 
 Wa 152. 
 iguana the monitor lizard (Varanus). 
 
 This name is common in Austral 
 English in designation of any large 
 lizard, often pronounced gowannow. 
 in leg you got in one fellow box. G 260. 
 half-way in sky. R 101. 
 something bad in heart. V 252. 
 inside jump inside: to be startled. R 117. 
 like milk inside. R 101. 
 inside him he cross: to be angry. V 
 
 252. 
 have better class inside: appetite. 
 
 V252. 
 feel another kind inside: to change 
 
 the mind. V 252. 
 inside tell himself; to consider. V 
 
 252. 
 he wild inside: to be enraged. V253. 
 inside bad: to be grieved. V 253. 
 feel inside: to know. V 253. 
 I like you proper with my heart in- 
 side. V 253. 
 he bad inside: to be sorry. V 254. 
 think inside: to think. V254. 
 no speak out, keep him inside. V 254. 
 island boy belong island he speak. W 373. 
 all along same as island in the sky. 
 V252. 
 
 jump jump inside: to be startled. R 117. 
 jump up: to rise. 
 
44 
 
 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 just well, I eatum jus' little fellow bit. G 
 246. 
 tail belong him just like oar. R 1 18. 
 
 kaikai, kai this stem is pure Polynesian; in 
 my studies of Melanesian speech 
 (The Polynesian Wanderings, Ap- 
 pendix I, item 46) I have found it 
 in but three languages of that 
 province, MabuiaginTorresStraits, 
 Sariba and Suau on the Papuan 
 shore, and this is the waterway 
 through which swept the southern 
 stream of the earliest Polynesian 
 migration out of the Malay Archi- 
 pelago. The strictly Melanesian 
 word in the same sense, to eat, is 
 kani or some easily recognizable 
 variant. The Polynesian kai was 
 acquired by white men in their long 
 acquaintance with the central and 
 eastern Pacific and by them im- 
 pressed upon the islanders of the 
 western chains. It was reported 
 from New Zealand in 1815 by 
 Nicholas, 
 noun: food, meat, eating. 
 
 here no kaikai. SG 10. 
 
 he plenty good kaikai one fellow man. 
 G 212, Se 614. 
 
 small fellow clam kaikai he stop. L 
 360. 
 
 my belly no got kaikai : to be hungry. 
 . V 253. 
 
 big fellow kaikai plenty too much. 
 HW 139. 
 verb. 
 
 1. to eat. 
 
 suppose me kaikai pig me die. SG 
 
 121. 
 he kaikai you if he get chance. Wa 
 
 152. 
 he kaikai along me. L 361. 
 kaikai meat along butcher. R 108. 
 
 2. to be eaten. 
 
 when kaikai he fight. R 91. 
 
 kalass glass, mirror. SG 27. 
 
 kanaka natives of the islands. This is pure 
 Polynesian and impressed upon the 
 Melanesians by the white voyagers. 
 In Polynesian the word is tangata, 
 it is only in Hawaiian that the 
 dialectic variation produces the 
 form kanaka. From this we are 
 warranted in drawing the conclu- 
 sion that the word came into sailor 
 English aboard the whaleships, for 
 Honolulu was their principal port 
 for refitting after the voyages in 
 search of the cachalot and before 
 setting north in pursuit of the 
 right whale, 
 me fraid belong kanaka. S 127. 
 
 keep he keep a bee there. G 2^.3. 
 
 no speak out, keep him inside. V 254. 
 
 kiab master. Local to the Bismarck Archi- 
 pelago, 
 you sabe too much, kiab. Sg 25, 60 
 124. 
 
 kiaman to tell lies. Local to the Bismarck 
 Archipelago, 
 all he kiaman. SG 121. 
 
 kiau egg. New Britain, Gazelle Peninsula 
 kill 
 
 1. to beat. Re 114. 
 
 suppose you killum kanaka one time 
 he sore, suppose you killum killum 
 plenty too much mebbe he die 
 finish. 
 
 2. to kijl. 
 
 yes, I killum all right. G 215, 232. 
 
 3. to die. 
 
 he full up blood he kill him. Se 563. 
 (A penalty of eating a tabu body, the 
 blood rises up into the sinner's 
 throat and he dies therefrom.) 
 kind 
 
 he savy that another kind: to know 
 
 better. Se 623. 
 another kind of : different. V252. 
 he feel another kind inside: to change 
 the mind. V 252. 
 knife W 386. See go-to-heU. 
 know he know he come. W 349. 
 kumara the Polynesian name for the 
 sweet potato. 
 
 lady what name lady he maki cry? SG 27. 
 land land he come up. SG 30. 
 laugh bymby all men laugh along that boy. 
 Se 567. 
 
 he plenty laugh. G 207. 
 lazy me too much lazy. SG 29. 
 
 suppose he lazy he hit him a little 
 fellow. W 349. 
 learn to teach. 
 
 best thing you learn us. V 254. 
 leg leg you got in one fellow box. G 26b. 
 let he no take him. let another fellow man 
 take him. Se 444. 
 
 let go heart: to covet. V253. 
 
 let go: to release. V253. 
 like adverb. 
 
 tail belong him just like oar. R 1 18. 
 
 wail like hell. R 1 15. 
 
 like milk inside. R 101. 
 
 color like curry. R 95- 
 
 they fright like hell. L 363. 
 
 strong like stone. V 252. 
 
 like brother. V 253. 
 like verb. 
 
 he no like that work. W 349, SG 29, 
 60. 
 
 me like him two rifle. L 361. 
 
 you like me proper: to love. V 253. 
 
 whatnameyounolike'mme? L363. 
 
 he like kill you me. S 127. 
 
 me like too much: to love. V253, 
 J 77- 
 
VOCABULARY. 
 
 45 
 
 likkilik, liklik Polynesian and Melanesian 
 liki small, see "The Polynesian 
 Wanderings," page 229. 
 
 1, almost, pretty nearly. See close up. 
 
 he likkilik allright now. SG 22. 
 
 2. little, small. 
 
 me like liklik work liklik kaikai. 
 
 SG29. 
 limlibur New Britain, Gazelle Peninsula, 
 to take a walk, to do nothing. S 301 . 
 
 Cf. walk about. 
 line rope. 
 
 make'm fast that fellow line. 
 little jus' little fellow bit. G 246. 
 
 he hit him a little fellow. W 349. 
 he spell for little : to rest. V 253. 
 little bit dry. R hi. 
 load to hump a load: to carry a burden on 
 
 the back or on a pole. Cf. hump. 
 long preposition, by, at, with, on; Re 114. 
 
 See along, belong. 
 me cross long woman me rauss him. 
 
 Sg 109. 
 yougo long house belongme. Re 114. 
 you look long big fellow he cry sup- 
 pose me fight him. Re 114. 
 me take him all time long cigar: 
 
 holder. Re 114. 
 no sabe talk long white man. SG 20. 
 long adjective. 
 
 long fellow missis. S 303. 
 
 long time ago. W 290. 
 
 stop long time. W 380. 
 
 before long time altogether no place 
 
 he stop. L362. 
 he fraid long way from village. Se 
 
 162. 
 long way little bit; long way big bit; 
 
 long way too much. L 360. 
 look noun. 
 
 this look: this way, this fashion. 
 
 V2 S4 . 
 
 look verb. 
 
 1. to see. 
 
 woman he look him. SG 123. 
 
 very good you go look chief belonga 
 
 me. W 143. 
 he look'm this fella Adam he walk 
 
 about too much. L 363. 
 suppose you look'm these two fella. 
 
 L364. 
 god he no sawee look along us two 
 
 fella. L 363, V 254. 
 he sawee look along nusipepa: to be 
 
 able to read. 
 
 2. to look. 
 
 go look'm eye belong you along deck : 
 
 L359- 
 
 3. no look'm me too much : to stare at. V 
 
 2 54- 
 
 4. me look him: to look him over. W 15. 
 
 5. he look daylight a long time: to lie 
 
 awake. V 252. 
 
 6. he look very smart: to act quickly. 
 
 V253. 
 look alive: hurry up, be quick. 
 
 look out 
 
 1. to care for, to take an interest in. 
 
 Queen Victoria he look out all man 
 
 stop this place. W 386. 
 you look out boy belong me. SG 29. 
 me sawee look out along boat. L361. 
 
 2. to guard against. 
 
 look out good for spear or some boy 
 
 get him spear. Se 560. 
 suppose you come my place you look 
 
 out. Ro 252. 
 
 3. to be on good behavior. 
 
 me speak cappen belong man-o'war 
 suppose you no look out. W 144. 
 
 4. to finij. V 253. 
 
 5. to seek. V 253. 
 
 look round to seek: I been look round 
 
 before. V 254. 
 loose to omit. 
 
 he ho loose him one fellow night. 
 
 F 105. 
 low speak very low. V 254. 
 
 mainland all same belong mainland. R120. 
 make 
 
 1. to make, with noun object. 
 
 make fool of. V 252 
 
 make wau wau wau : to make a fuss. 
 HW53. 
 
 make hell of a noise : to make an out- 
 cry. R 109. 
 
 he make'm altogether; he make'm 
 big fella garden. L 363. 
 
 make'm trouble along boy. L 363. 
 
 he make'm one big fennis. L 364. 
 
 make him humbug. V 253. 
 
 2. to do. 
 
 you work work all'm time too much, 
 what you make'm? 
 
 3. verb formative with adjectives. 
 
 bottle something makee cold. HW 
 
 97: 
 make adrift: to untie, to open, 
 make fast. V252. 
 make flash. V 253. 
 he make bad for misinari. G 232. 
 
 4. auxiliary to verbs in causative sense. 
 
 make him capsize: to spill. G 207. 
 what name lady he maki cry: to sing. 
 
 SG 27. 
 he make'm Adam he go sleep. L 363. 
 he make all manfeel no good. V 252. 
 make no more cry: to comfort. R 
 
 144. 
 man 
 
 1. man, in general. 
 
 he plenty good kaikai one fellow man 
 
 G 212. 
 for killum man. G 232. 
 man he dream him. Se 173. 
 so man he savy this fellow grave. Se 
 
 623. 
 another fellow man. Se 444. 
 some place me go man he no good. 
 
 L361. 
 
46 
 
 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 man 
 
 all man: everybody. V 252. 
 chief he old man. W 143. 
 2 with territorial designation. See black- 
 man, whiteman. 
 {a) place name preceding. 
 Malekula man. G 207. 
 Tanna man. G 243, 260. 
 (&) place name following. 
 
 Man-Sydney: white man. W 284. 
 man-Matupi. W 290. 
 man- Vila. W 143. 
 man-Sandwich. W 144. 
 man-bush. Glaumont: Nouvelles- 
 Hebrides7i. 
 •(c) place name with o*. 
 
 man-o'-bush very good. W 284. 
 man-o'-weewee : Frenchman. W 1 43 . 
 man-o'-war. W 144. 
 3. husband. V253. 
 ■nana a Polynesian word which covers all 
 the supernatural powers involved 
 in wizardry, the influence of the god 
 embodied in a man and equally in 
 inanimate objects. 
 man-o'-war hawk the frigate bird. 
 maori See copper-maori. 
 mary all women are so called genetically. 
 H W 5 2 , L 360. Established in New 
 Zealand before 181 5, according to 
 Nicholas, 
 mary belong Malekula man. G 207. 
 him fella Adam him want'm mary. 
 
 L363. 
 mast two fellow mast: a schooner or ketch. 
 master big fellow master: captains, traders, 
 
 etc. SG 24. 
 
 small fellow master: sailors, etc. SG 
 
 24. 
 big fellow master too much: governor 
 
 SG24. 
 big fella marster belong blackman: 
 
 chief. L 359. 
 god big fella marster belong white 
 
 man. L 363. 
 one fella marster belong god: angel. 
 
 1.364- 
 match that fellow break (to light) plenty 
 
 match. W 96. 
 me 
 
 1. subject. 
 
 suppose me kitch him grass. SG 25. 
 suppose me no see my island, me no 
 
 lik'e you too much. J 77. 
 me too much lazy. SG 29, 60. 
 me cross long woman me rauss him. 
 
 SG 109, 121. 
 
 2. with fellow. ..... 
 
 (a) yes, he good, me fellow me drink him. 
 
 SG27. 
 me fella me savee him. L 362. 
 (6) dual. J r . 
 
 me two fellow Lagia: I and Lagia. 
 
 F 106. 
 me two fellow me fight down below, 
 
 he likkilik allright now. SG 22. 
 more good you me two fella we eat'm 
 
 this fella apple. L 363. 
 
 me object. 
 
 he tell me takeum cutter big fellow 
 hospital Ambrym. G 198. 
 
 I think you give me big fellow to- 
 bacco. G 223. 
 
 belong me: my. 
 
 meat kaikai meat along butcher. R 108. 
 he all bone got no meat: to be thin. 
 V254. 
 mebbe maybe, perhaps. 
 
 suppose you killum killum plenty too 
 much mebbe he die finish. 
 
 medicine you give him medicine belong 
 Mm. SG 23. 
 
 milk like milk inside. R 101. 
 misinari 
 
 1. missionary. 
 
 he make bad for misinari. G 232. 
 
 2. that fine product known to Exeter Hall 
 
 and the monthly concert as "the 
 native Christian." 
 
 missi Miss G212. 
 
 missis big fellow missis. S 303. 
 
 The differentiation of these two items 
 is not regarded with precision, the 
 estate being invisible and in the 
 islander's eyes not particularly 
 holy; that any distinction appears 
 in our material may be due to the 
 fact that missi is reported by a 
 maiden lady. 
 
 money he put money, you kitch him money 
 
 belong you. SG 24. 
 moon month 
 
 very good you speak three moon. 
 W373. 
 more wantum one fellow water, two fellow 
 water, we give; no wantum more. 
 G 198. 
 more better you come out. Se 383. 
 more good you me two fella we eat'm 
 
 this fella apple. L 363. 
 make no more cry: to comfort. R144. 
 mother father, mother he no wild. Se 567. 
 move (of emotion felt) 
 
 bal belong him he move he no sileep. 
 SG 123. 
 much see too much. 
 
 how much you pay? W 144. 
 musket he give this fella marster belong 
 god one big fella musket. L 364. 
 my common in Mr. Ray's vocabulary along 
 with belong me; in general use be- 
 long me is far more idiomatic, 
 that fellow he belong my place. Se 
 441. 
 
 name see also what name. 
 
 big fellow name. SG 23. 
 what name ship? W 15. 
 Adam he name belong him. L 363- 
 
VOCABULARY. 
 
 47 
 
 no negative answer. 
 
 Adam he speak "Nol" L 363. S"' r 
 
 You savez me? No, no savez. W 
 290, SG 29. 
 
 A confusing precision in the use of the 
 negative and affirmative is illus- 
 trated in this scrap of dialogue: 
 
 "What name here" [do you want 
 anything]? 
 
 "No." 
 
 "No?" 
 
 "Yes." F 106. 
 
 no adjective. 
 
 here no kaikai. SG 10. 
 no water stop. G 35. 
 he no proper man belong my place. 
 Se 441, 587. 
 no adverb: not. 
 
 that fellow mary he no sawee carry 
 yam. G 207, 232, SG 20,24, 110 > 
 116,121, 123, Se 383, 444,441, J 77 
 
 no do not. 
 
 no be fraid Jonni, he good fellow. 
 SG24. 
 now see this lime. 
 
 he likkilik all right now. SG 22, G 
 243, Se 623. 
 nusipepa a letter, any written or printed 
 document, 
 he sawee look along nusipepa: he is 
 able to read. 
 
 o interjection. This is certainly derived 
 from the English use, for the char- 
 acteristic exclamation of theMelan- 
 esians is e or some variant thereon; 
 in the 35 languages collated by Dr. 
 Codrington an exclamatory o is 
 found in but one, the Efate\ 
 o he no sabe pull. SG 24, 29, 123, 
 G223. 
 
 oar tail belong him just like oar. R 1 18. 
 
 of there are but few prepositions in island 
 speech, even at its richest develop- 
 ment, yet most of these several 
 languages have recognized a few of 
 the relations which we indicate by 
 of, and in a large number of cases 
 they employ or a. Accordingly 
 man-o'-bush and the like expres- 
 sions show a degree of cordiality 
 toward the preposition of posses- 
 sion which is lacking toward other 
 such words, 
 piece of word: sentence. G 106. 
 
 off bush stop far off gardens there. Se 614. 
 
 old old time fashion. Se 323. 
 he old man. W 143. 
 small fellow old man belong tail: the 
 monkey. 
 
 on by-n'-by he go on. G 207. 
 he stop on top. Re 114. 
 
 one the same. 
 
 he no one sulu (clan). Se 441. 
 
 one 
 
 1. as indefinite article. 
 
 god he make'm one big fennis all 
 
 around garden. L 364. 
 bimeby one day Eve she come along 
 
 Adam. L 363. 
 I think you wantum one fellow head. 
 
 G 223, 212, 198, 260. 
 
 2. onetime. 
 
 (a) formerly, once. 
 
 one time Lamanian man be keep a 
 bee there. G 243. 
 
 (b) once, at once. 
 
 suppose you killurn kanaka one time 
 
 he sore. 
 only only he one: alone. V 252, HW 97. 
 or look out for spear good along fight or 
 
 some boy he get him spear. SC560. 
 other all same other fellow belong simoke. 
 
 Re 114. 
 he got house other side Matupi. W 
 
 290. 
 outside my boy outside all time: away from 
 
 home. V 252. 
 
 pain see sore. 
 
 one fellow pain. SG 20. 
 paper see nusipepa. 
 
 housepaper: government office. HW 
 53- 
 pappa pappa belong me he go finish yes'er- 
 day. G 223. 
 
 peasoup, pisupo 
 
 This is the designation of all foreign 
 foods which are preserved in tinned 
 drums. Its origin is in fact less 
 simple than might appear, for in 
 the dietary schedule of the whalers 
 pea soup was not put up in tins 
 but freshly prepared in the galley 
 when needed. "Soup and bully" 
 was the only tinned food of such 
 voyages. The term now covers 
 all foods that come in round flat 
 tins; beef is the staple article 
 under this designation, for mutton, 
 whether fresh or preserved, is gen- 
 erally repugnant to the islander's 
 palate. Salmon is an exception to 
 the peasoup classification, being 
 known as samani. 
 
 pickaninny child. Found in New Zealand 
 in 1815 by Nicholas, 
 pickaninny belong me. V 252. 
 pickaninny stop along him fella: an 
 egg. L361. 
 
 piece piece of word: sentence. R 106. 
 
 break my people all a pieces. J 98. 
 
 pig suppose me kaikai pig me die. SG 
 121. 
 
 pigeon any bird. V 252. 
 
 grass belong pigeon: feather. V 253 
 
48 
 
 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 place fire place: crater. G 259. 
 
 that fellow place you eatum dinner. 
 
 G259. 
 that fellow he belong my place. Se 
 
 441. 
 some place me go man he no good. 
 
 L361. 
 he catch him place: to arrive. V252. 
 suppose you come my place. Ro 252 
 this place: here, 
 that place: there. 
 plantation in distinction this is used of the 
 greater agricultural operations of 
 the white men; the small farm 
 patches of the islanders are gardens. 
 play canoe belong play. V 254. 
 plenty adjective. 
 
 1. many. V 253. 
 
 plenty boy die. W 349, 96. 
 
 2. abundance of, 
 
 captain good man takee plenty wine. 
 
 HW98. 
 no get him plenty kaikai. W 349, L 
 
 363, SG 29. 
 
 3. plenty time: frequently. 
 
 he speak all-a-same plenty time. W 
 
 373- 
 plenty adverb. 
 1. greatly, very. 
 
 woman he look him, he run him, he 
 
 kitch this fellow man, he speak him 
 
 puss-puss, oh he puss-puss plenty. 
 
 SG 123. 
 head belong him he break plenty. 
 
 G198. 
 spit fire plenty. J 103. 
 he plenty laugh. G 207, 232. 
 by-n'by hearum plenty smell. G 
 
 259- _ 
 
 he plenty good kaikai. G 212. 
 talk plenty bad. V 254- 
 you speak lie plenty. J 80. 
 plenty all right. G 223. 
 2 plenty too much: very great indeed, 
 big fellow kaikai plenty too much. 
 
 HW 139. S3- 
 presents W 386. 
 proper right, fit. 
 
 he no proper man belong my place. 
 
 Se44i- 
 no proper word belong talk: incom- 
 prehensible. Se 587- 
 correct. V 252. 
 
 you like me proper: to love. V 253. 
 pull to row a boat; see washee to paddle, 
 he no sabe pull. SG 24. 
 little fellow bokkus you pull him he 
 
 cry: accordeon. 
 puss-puss to love, see page 30. 
 
 he speak him puss-puss : she tells him 
 
 that she loves him, for this is 
 
 savage life. SG «3- 
 o he puss-puss plenty. SG 123. 
 he puss-puss belong this fellow. SG 
 
 thi a3 fellow mary he no good, he 
 make him too much puss-puss be- 
 long all Buka. F 105- 
 
 put to set, to give. 
 
 white man he hear him he out monev. 
 
 Sg2 4 . 
 
 suppose you no put him down very 
 
 good. G 207. 
 he make'm one fella man and put'm 
 
 along garden. L 363. 
 put eye on me too much: to stare at. 
 
 V254. 
 
 quick yam he break very quick. G 207. 
 
 rain rain he stop: to be raining. L360. 
 rauss big fellow marster he rauss me. HW 
 
 53, SG 109, no. 
 reef he find him along reef. Se 173. 
 right oh, he all right, he right, plenty all 
 right. G 223. 
 all right all right, he small now, bymbye 
 he big. Se 623. 
 bimeby Adam he tired too much and 
 
 he- speak "all right." L 363. 
 yes I Wllnm all right. G 215. 
 you no good, you dead; he tell "no, 
 
 all right." G198. 
 he likkilik all right now. SG 22, 23, 
 
 road give me good road: to direct aright. 
 V253. 
 he come back because of bad road. 
 R136. 
 rogue Aipus was a bloody rogue. V 253. 
 roll he roll up swag: to collect one's prop- 
 erty. V 253. 
 rope see line. 
 
 rope along bush: a liana. R97. V 
 
 253. 254- 
 round I been look round before. V 254. 
 row have a row: to quarrel. V253. 
 run woman he look him, he run him: to run 
 
 after. SG 123. 
 too much run about: to= waste time. 
 
 V 254. (more commonly walk 
 
 about.) 
 
 sailo sailho! The cry dates from the old 
 beachcombing days when the 
 Islanders were instructed that this 
 was a call that must be repeated 
 when once heard and repeated 
 .until it was heard taken up at yet 
 more remote distance. The habit 
 remains, although the loneliness of 
 the white exile's life on the beaches 
 is somewhat more frequently inter-, 
 rupted and the sighting of the 
 distant sail is no longer the break 
 ■of the monotony, moving him to 
 .seclusion in the bush for avoidance 
 'or to the beach for enjoyment, 
 according as his hidden knowledge 
 of his past may govern his present. 
 
VOCABULARY. 
 
 49 
 
 salt man-Sydney no good, too much salt. 
 
 W284. 
 samani tinned salmon; see peasoup. 
 same, all same 
 
 1. just as. 
 
 all same dark you can't see. Se 610. 
 all same sick he no sawee kaikai. 
 
 L363. 
 all same mary she talk along boy. 
 
 L363- 
 
 2. like, to resemble. 
 
 plenty good, Missi, all same one 
 
 fellow chicken. G 2 1 2 . 
 all same fire. V 253, R 120. 
 all along same as: to resemble. V 
 
 253- 
 all the same one: alike. V 252. 
 this fellow no all the same. W 144. 
 
 3. that, with explicit particularity. 
 
 that fellow place you eatum dinner, 
 
 all same place Taimaman he eat 
 
 woman. G 260. 
 he speak all-a-same plenty time. W 
 
 373- 
 savvy to know, to know how, to understand 
 
 to comprehend, to believe, to be 
 
 able. 
 
 1. absolute, to be wise. 
 
 you sabe too much. SG 25. 
 
 2. in negative response. 
 
 no savez. Cap. W 290. 
 
 3. governs a verb directly. 
 
 this fellow he no sabe talk along white 
 
 man. SG 20. 
 he no sabe pull. Sg24, G207, L362. 
 
 4. governs a direct object. 
 
 you no sawee white man, me fella 
 me sawee him. L 362, G 259. 
 
 5. to be able. 
 
 chief he old man he no savey walk 
 
 good. W 143. 
 all the same sick he no sawee kaikai. 
 
 L363. 
 
 6. he savez that another kind: to know 
 
 better. Se 623. 
 say me speak along him say bokkis he stop 
 
 L362. 
 god say "what name?" L363. 
 schooner G 232. More commonly two 
 
 fellow mast. 
 scrub see bush. 
 
 they fright like hell and they go hide 
 
 along scrub. L 363-4. 
 see all same dark you can't see. Se 610. 
 
 see you no: do not. V 253. 
 sent me shiver sent: I shivered. V 254. 
 she subject. The gender distinction is rare, 
 
 see he. 
 she carry yam all-a-time. G 207. 
 shift to move. V 253- 
 ship W 15. 
 
 shiver me shiver sent: I shivered. V 254. 
 shoot s'pose you look'm these two fella 
 
 Adam Eve you shoot'm plenty too 
 
 much. L 364. 
 
 short short man. HW 53. 
 
 short of wind: breathless. V252. 
 shove little fellow bokkus you shove him he 
 cry, you pull him he cry : accordeon. 
 sick see bad. 
 
 all the same sick. L 363. 
 side he got house other side Matupi. W 
 290. 
 This place and other side are very fre- 
 quent position designations on the 
 smaller islands, not only in the 
 Beach-la-mar but in the proper 
 languages of the several islands. 
 sing see cry. 
 sing out 
 
 hearum sing out: hear the noise of 
 
 the eruption. G 259. 
 what name you sing out along me? 
 
 L'362. 
 he sing out "Adam!" L 363. 
 time wild fowl he sing out. V 253. 
 sing-sing :a dance. SG 125, W 13. 
 
 a song. L361. 
 skin skin belong me heavy: to be thirsty. 
 
 V2S4- 
 sky half-way in sky. R 101. 
 
 all along same as island in sky. V 
 252. 
 sleep me sleep strong fella too much. L 
 363. 
 woman he hear him, bal belong him 
 
 he move, he no sileep. SG 123. 
 sun he go down, he go sleep. W 349. 
 slew slew, slew round, slew behind: to 
 turn. V 234. 
 bone along me slew : to be bewitched. 
 V252. 
 slush to anoint. 
 
 that fellow mary he slush'm grass be- 
 long head too much stink: to dress 
 the hair with perfumed oil. 
 small of size, and a general diminutive. 
 
 he sinail now bymbye he big. Se 62 3 . 
 small bush in garden: weeds. R 122. 
 small father: father's younger 
 
 brother. V 253. 
 small talk: to whisper. V 254. 
 small boy: foolish. V 253. 
 cook him small hot: underdone. V 
 
 253- 
 small fellow master. SG 24, 23, R 
 
 121, L 360. 
 talk small fellow: to promise not to. 
 
 V253- 
 smart he look very smart: to act quickly. 
 
 V253. 
 smell see stirik. 
 
 bymby hearum smell. G 259. 
 smoke all same other fellow belong smoke. 
 
 Re 114. 
 so so man he savy this fellow grave. Se623. 
 so Adam Eve these two fella go along 
 scrub. L 364. 
 some some boy he get him spear. Se 560. 
 some place me go. L361. 
 
50 
 
 BEACH-LA-MAR. 
 
 something he feel something bad in heart: 
 angry. V 252. 
 small fellow something he go belong 
 
 bush: the land crab. S303. 
 small fellow something he come he 
 kaikai all finish: ant. S 304. 
 sore hurt, pain, smart: as noun and as verb, 
 suppose you killum kanaka one time 
 he sore, suppose you killum killum 
 plenty too much mebbe he die 
 finish. 
 sorry bymby he sorry he no take him. Se 
 
 444- 
 they sorry for boy: to pity. V 253. 
 
 speak 
 
 1. to speak to, to address. 
 
 me speak cappen belong man-o'war. 
 
 W144. 
 he like speak you. W 143. 
 he speak him puss-puss. SG 123. 
 me speak along him say bokkis he 
 
 stop. L 362. 
 
 2. to say. 
 
 he speak wantum one fellow water. 
 
 G198. 
 you speak lie plenty. J 80. 
 speak we come along three moon. 
 
 W373- 
 he speak "this fella garden he belong 
 you." L 363. 
 
 3. to ask. 
 
 he speak how much you pay. W 1 44. 
 
 4. to talk about. 
 
 you speak too much taboo. SG 1 2 1 . 
 
 5. me no speak: to assent. V 252. 
 
 he speak straight: to tell the truth. 
 
 V254. 
 no speak out. V 254. 
 speak very low: to whisper. V 254. 
 
 spear, sipia 
 
 look out for spear good along fight. 
 
 Se 560. 
 some boy he get him spear: to be 
 speared. Ses6o. 
 spell 
 
 1. to rest. 
 
 he spell for little. V253. 
 
 2. a resting period, an interval. 
 
 you give me spell. V 253. 
 he makeum lazy one spell bymbye he 
 work plenty strong fellow. 
 spirit spirit belong all white men no good. 
 
 P266. 
 spit 
 
 1. swallow spit: to covet. V 253. 
 
 2. jealous. V 253. 
 
 spoil he been spoil us: to bewitch. V 252. 
 
 quareface bottle. 
 
 This is good sailor English for the gin 
 bottle of that geometry; before the 
 passage of the Western Pacific acts 
 such bottles with contents of vitri- 
 olic property were articles of trade. 
 The name has been extended to in- 
 clude all forms of glassware, no 
 matter what the shape. 
 
 stink to be odoriferous, whatever the quality 
 
 of the odor, 
 suppose me kitch him grass he die he 
 
 stink. SG 25, 117. 
 water belong stink: perfumery, 
 apple belong stink: onion, 
 slush belong stink: coconut oil 
 
 scented with ilangilang. 
 
 stone he make strong and like stone. V252. 
 stop almost a general substantive verb. 
 
 1. to be. 
 
 no water stop: there is no water. G35. 
 bush stop far off. Se 614. 
 rain he stop: it rains. L 360. 
 coconut belong him grass no stop. 
 me speak along him say bokkiss he 
 
 stop: is my property. L 362. 
 Tologga stop: is here. W289. 
 
 2. to be'in a position relative. 
 
 he stop on top. Re 1 14. 
 stop behind. G 207. 
 
 3. to live in. 
 
 two white men stop Matupi. W 290, 
 
 144. 
 when he stop along his island. W 
 
 349. V 252. 
 he look out all man stop this place. 
 
 W386. 
 pickaninny stop along him fella: an 
 
 egg- L361. 
 
 4. to prevent. 
 
 why you stop him get hurt? Wa 152. 
 straight 
 
 he talk straight: to speak plainly. 
 
 V2S4- 
 speak straight: to tell the truth. 
 
 V254. 
 strong you fellow strong along fight. Se 
 
 560, SG 124. 
 he make strong like stone: brave. 
 
 V252. 
 suppose he work strong fellow. W 
 
 349- 
 me sleep strong fella too much. L 
 
 363- 
 sugar he work along sugar cane. W 349. 
 sugar-bag: comb full of honey. R 
 127. 
 sulu Fijian sulu. 
 
 The fold of cloth wrapped around the 
 waist and covering the legs more 
 or less. 
 sun sun she come up, sun he go down. 
 
 W349. 
 suppose suppose he work strong fellow 
 white fellow he no hit him. W349, 
 SG 25, 121, G 207, J 77- 
 s'pose you look'm these two fella. L 
 
 364- 
 swag portable property, provision for a 
 
 march, 
 he roll up swag. V 253. 
 swallow swallow spit: to covet. V253. 
 swill down: to drink. V253. 
 
VOCABULARY. 
 
 51 
 
 tabu any matter that is forbidden. 
 
 you speak too much tabu. SG 121. 
 one fella tree he tambo along you 
 altogether. L 363. 
 
 tail tail belong him (the stingray) just 
 like oar. R118. 
 small fellow old man belong tail: the 
 monkey. 
 take to carry, to take, to have. 
 1. only takee tea. HW 97. 
 
 he sorry he no take him. Se 444. 
 cappen you been take me along three 
 
 year. W 373. 
 he tell me takeum cutter big fellow 
 
 hospital. G 198. 
 he take one fella bone belong him. L 
 
 363, Se 560. 
 fellow belong simoke me take him all 
 time long cigar: a cigar holder. 
 Re 1 14. 
 2.- you take him he come : bring here. Re 
 114. 
 that schooner no takee-him come-him 
 friend. G 232. 
 3. take cold heart: mild tempered. V253. 
 
 talk to speak. 
 
 this fellow he no sabe talk long white 
 
 man. SG 20. 
 all he talk: they all say. SG 121. 
 no proper word belong talk. Se 587. 
 Eve she talk talk talk allee time. L 
 
 363. 
 talk along boy. L 363. 
 talk too much crooked: to deceive. 
 
 V253. 
 talk big: to promise. V 253. 
 talk small fellow: promise not. V 
 
 253- 
 talk straight: to speak plainly. V 
 
 254- 
 talk plenty bad belong man: to 
 
 swear. V 354. 
 taro the bulb of Caladium esculentum. L 
 
 363. 
 tea HW 97. 
 tell to speak, to order. 
 
 1. he tell me takeum cutter. G 198, 223. 
 
 2. to say. 
 
 he tell "no, all right." G 198. 
 
 3. to ask. 
 
 we tell "what name we go Ambrym?" 
 
 G198. 
 inside tell himself: to consider. V 
 252. 
 ten two fellow ten one fellow: twenty-one. 
 
 HW53 
 that the distant demonstrative, idiomati- 
 cally supported by fellow. 
 that schooner. G 232, 259. 
 that boy. Se 567. 
 he do that. Se 367, 623. 
 that fellow that fellow he belong my 
 place. Se 441. 
 you savvy that fellow place. G 259, 
 207, 232. 
 the all the boy. W 373. G 243, 259. 
 
 then more idiomatically that time. 
 
 bymby he go on then you coming. 
 G 207. 
 there commonly that place, all same place. 
 he keep a bee there. G 243. 
 bush stop far off gardens there. Se 
 614. 
 
 these the plural distinction is an unnecessary 
 refinement. 
 Adam Eve these two fella. L 364. 
 
 thing not in common use. 
 
 best thing you learn us. V 254. 
 
 think I think he plenty cross. G 232, 223, 
 243. 
 heart along him think. V 254. 
 I think you give mebigfellowtobacco : 
 
 to hope. G 223. 
 we think he eat: perhaps. V 253. 
 this the near demonstrative, idiomatically 
 supported by fellow. 
 this time: now 
 suppose this fellow man he sabe. SG 
 
 25, Se 623. 
 he puss-puss belong this fellow. SG 
 
 124. 
 this fellow he no sabe talk. SG 20. 
 by and by this fellow he die. SG 26. 
 this fellow he good. SG 27. 
 three particularly noted in speech because 
 of the underlying trinal number, 
 three moon. W 349, 373, G 260. 
 three fellow. HW 53. 
 me three fellow: trinal, I and two 
 others. 
 throat my throat he fast: to be dumb. V 
 
 253- 
 tight half-tight: scarcity of water. V 252. 
 tik=a-tik watch. R 168. 
 
 time 
 
 1. no got time: to be unable. 
 
 2. all time: always. 
 
 he go all time: a watch or clock. 
 
 Re 1 14. 
 we fellowstop all time along Mabuiag. 
 
 V252. 
 she carry yam all-a-time. G 207. 
 he walk about all the time. L 363. 
 talk allee time. L 363. 
 look along us two fella all'm time. 
 
 L363. 
 
 3. first time: formerly. V253. 
 
 4. good time. 
 
 they two fella have'm good time too 
 much. L 363. 
 
 5. long time. 
 
 he look daylight a long time: to lie 
 
 awake. V 252. 
 long time fashion: old custom. V 
 
 253. 
 stop Matupi long time ago. W 290. 
 
 6. old time: ancient. 
 
 old time fashion. Se 323. 
 
 7. one time: once, at once. V 253. 
 
 one time Lamanian man he keep a 
 bee there: formerly. G 243. 
 
52 
 
 BBACH-IA-MAR. 
 
 time 
 
 8. plenty time: often, frequently 
 
 he speak all-a-same plenty time. 
 . W373. 
 _ 9- that time: then, this time: now. 
 tired bimeby Adam he tired too much L 
 363- 
 white man he tired too much close up 
 all same blackboy he bloody lazy: 
 when a whiteman refrains from 
 work you say it's because he is 
 exhausted, but when the kanaka 
 stops to rest you call him "bloody 
 lazy." 
 to get to hell. L 364. 
 
 tobacco you give me big fellow tobacco. G 
 
 223. 
 tomahawk W386. 
 
 brother belong tamiok he come he go: 
 
 a saw. F 100. 
 This is the Colonial designation of the 
 hatchet in distinction from the 
 "American axe." That tomahawk 
 has passed into Beach-la-mar and 
 axe has not is doubtless due to the 
 fact that the blade when sold as a 
 tomahawk is promptly dismounted 
 from its hatchet helve and reas- 
 sembled as an adze, a process to 
 which the axe less readily lends 
 itself, 
 too color like curry, he bite too. R 95. 
 too much the usual method of indicating 
 a superlative, 
 big fellow master too much: governor 
 
 SG 24. 
 big fellow master plenty too much: 
 
 governor. HW53. 
 you sabe too much. SG 25. 
 me too much lazy. SG 29, W 284. 
 too much work. SG 29, Ro 252. 
 too much a moon (many). J 95. 
 too much he fraid. Se 162. 
 he too much fright. Se 552, W 349. 
 what for you too much a pool? me 
 no lik'e you too much. J 77. 
 top he stop on top: to be above. Re 114. 
 
 top: mountain. S 310. 
 trash to throw away. 
 
 trash him: to weed. W349. 
 trouble make'm trouble along boy. L 363. 
 true he strong, he good, be true. SG 124. 
 tumble down to die. 
 
 The full locution "tumble down 
 blackfellow jump up whitefellow" 
 is used in Australia to describe 
 what is popularly regarded as a 
 belief of the aborigines in metem- 
 psychosis. I have never heard the 
 complete phrase in Beach-la-mar, 
 and have never encountered such 
 a belief in reincarnation among the 
 island savages. In a modest way 
 they look upon the white folk as a 
 queer lot into whose existence it 
 would prove scantily attractive to 
 be born anew. 
 
 two particularly noted in speech because of 
 the underlying dual number, 
 two white men. W 290, G 260 ' 
 he cross along Adam Eve two fella. 
 
 L 304, HW 53, G 198. 
 me two fella: I and one other. 
 
 up come up. 
 full up. 
 
 very except as very good this is better ex- 
 pressed by plenty or too much. 
 
 yam he break very quick. G 207 
 
 speak very low. V254. 
 very good 
 
 suppose you no put him down verv 
 good. G 207. 
 
 very good you no go firs'. G 207, W 
 373- 
 
 man-o'bush very good. W 284 
 
 •„ v ery good belong boil yam. W 122. 
 village Se 162. 
 
 wail wail like hell: to be angry. R 115. 
 walk no savvey walk good. W 143. 
 walk about 
 
 1. to walk. 
 
 god he come walk about along garden 
 L363. 
 
 2. to go ashore. L 360. 
 
 3. to be, in motion. 
 
 that fella boom he walk about too 
 
 much. L 360. 
 big fella clam, kaikai he no stop he 
 
 walk about. L 360. 
 
 4. belly belong me walk about too much: 
 
 seasick. L 360. 
 
 5. to do nothing, to be idle. 
 
 he no sawee kaikai, he walk about 
 too much. L 363. 
 want to desire. 
 
 girl no want him. Se 567. 
 he speak wantum one fellow water. 
 G 198, 223. 
 
 washee a paddle, a sweep, an oar, to row. 
 L361. 
 This is the vernacular name of the 
 paddle, Polynesian fohe, Melan- 
 esian vose, see "Polynesian Wan- 
 derings, " page 429. 
 watch to observe. 
 
 you watch me good: carefully. V 
 252. 
 
 water any fluid regardless of potability. 
 
 water belong stink: perfumery. R 
 
 114. 
 wantum one fellow water. G 198, 35. 
 Se 383. 
 way see long way. 
 we subject. G 198. 
 
 fashion belong we fellow. V 253. 
 
VOCABULARY. 
 
 53 
 
 week two, three, four week. G 260. 
 
 weewee man-o-weewee: French. W 143. 
 
 well well, I eatum jus' little fellow bit. G 
 246. 
 
 what for what for he do that? Se 567, W 
 258, 373. J 77- 
 
 what name what; why, S 300; how. V 
 
 253; who, V254. 
 what name lady he maki cry? SG 
 
 27, 29. 
 what name we go Ambrym? G 198. 
 god say "what name? Menosavvee 
 
 what name this fella Adam he 
 
 want." L 363. 
 what name you sing out along me. 
 
 L 362-3. 
 Eve she speak "Gammon! What 
 
 name? L 363. 
 
 when when they finish eat'm. L 363. 
 
 where where you come from? W 15. 
 where he stop? V 254. 
 
 whitefellow see note under blackman. W 
 
 349- 
 whitefellow blackman: a black in 
 clothing. HW53. 
 
 whiteman no sabe talk long whiteman. 
 SG 20, 24, L 362. 
 spirit belong all white men. P 266, 
 W290. 
 
 wife wife belong you. Se 383. 
 
 wild 
 
 1. wild fowl he sing out. V 253. 
 
 2. bad-tempered, cross, angry. V 253. 
 
 father, mother he no wild. Se 567. 
 he wild like hell. V 252. 
 he wild inside. V 253. 
 
 wind man-Sandwich no make big wind. 
 W 144. 
 short of wind: breathless. V 252. 
 wine HW,98. 
 wire in to. eat. . 
 
 In every instance in which I have 
 heard the expression it has always 
 struck me as the conscious use of 
 fine language, as though my canni- 
 bal host extended the invitation to 
 partake of his hospitality, not with 
 the common kaikai, but with the 
 implied suggestion "as you white 
 men say" wire in. 
 with I loye you proper with my heart in- 
 side. V 253. 
 woman me cross long woman me rauss 
 
 him. SG 109, 123, G 260. 
 word no proper word belong talk. Se 587. 
 piece of word: sentence. R 106. 
 you give me bad word: advice. V 
 
 252. 
 you look out, my word. Ro 252, W 
 96, L 361-3. 
 work too much work. SG 29, no. 
 
 he work alonga sugarcane. W 349. 
 
 yam you buy yam? W 15, 122, G 207, 
 L 363. 
 
 fine-yam. V253. 
 yarn a true story, narrative of an actual 
 event. R 98. 
 
 all yarn: converse. V252. 
 
 to tell tales. V 254. 
 year take me along three year. W 373. 
 
 he come three years. W 349. 
 
 yes SG 29, 124, G 215, W 123, 290, L 363. 
 
 yesterday G 223, W 386. 
 
 you you give him medicine. SG 23, 24, 25, 
 
 G 198, 207, 223, 259, 260. 
 
 you fellow look out for spear. Se 560 
 
 all same dark you can't see. Se 610. 
 
BIBLIOGRAPHY AND REFERENCES. 
 
 F Friedbrici, Gborg. Pidgin-Englisch in Deutsch-Neuguinea. Berlin: Koloniale 
 
 Rundschau, 191 1, p. 92. 
 G Grimshaw, BSatricb. Fiji and its Possibilities (Prom Piji to the Cannibal 
 
 Islands). New York: Doubleday, Page & Company, 1907. 
 HW HBSSE-WarTBGG, Ernst von. Samoa, Bismarckarchipel und Neuguiiiea, drei 
 
 deutsche Kolonien in der Siidsee. Leipzig: J. J. Weber, 1902. 
 J Jacobs, Thomas Jbpfbrson. Scenes, Incidents and Adventures in the Pacific 
 
 Ocean. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1844.. 
 L London, John. Beche de Mer English. London: Contemporary Review No. 
 
 525. P- 359. 1909. 
 P Parkinson, R. Dreissig Jahre in der Siidsee: Land und Leute, Sitten und 
 
 Gebrauche im Bismarckarchipel und auf den deutschen Salamoiaseln. Stutt- 
 gart: Strecker & Schrdder, 1907. 
 R Ray, Sidney H. Reports of the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres 
 
 Straits: vol. Ill, Linguistics. Cambridge: University Press, 1907. 
 Re RBinBckB, Dr. P. Samoa. Berlin: Wilhelm Siisserott (1902). 
 Ro Romiu.y, Hugh Hastings. From my Verandah in New Guinea: Sketches and 
 
 Traditions. London: David Nutt, 1889. 
 S ScHNEB, Dr. Hbinrich. Bilder aus der Siidsee: Unter den kannibalischen 
 
 Stammen des Bismarck-Archipels. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer, 1904. 
 SG StBphan. Dr. Emu, und Dr. Fritz Grabbnbr. Neu-Mecklenburg (Bismarck- 
 
 Archipel): die Kuste von Umuddu bis Kap St. Georg. Berlin: Dietrich 
 
 Reimer, 1907. 
 So SBUGMann, Dr. C. G. The Melanesians of British New Guinea. Cambridge: 
 
 University Press, 1910. 
 V Ray, Sidnby H. (ut supra). Vocabulary of the Jargon English of Torres Straits 
 
 under 170 entries. 
 W Wawn, Wiujam T. The South Sea Islanders and the Queensland Labour Trade: 
 
 a Record of Voyages and Experiences in the Western Pacific, from 1875 to 
 
 1891. London: Swan Sonnenschein & Co., 1893. 
 Wa Walker, H. Wilfrid. Wanderings among South Sea Savages and in Borneo and 
 
 the Philippines. London: Witherby & Co.; 1909. 
 
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