which can never be forgotten,—the shops and houses of the merchants still draped with crape in memory of the fallen president at Washington, the crowds of native Hawaiian people which lined the way, their respectful silence broken only by their smothered sobs or subdued weeping, and with it all the steady, measured tread of the soldiers who were drawing the wagon on which I had been laid by my devoted friends. Although I had suffered much, was still in pain, and not out of danger, yet in it all there was the sweet assurance for which much can be borne, the blessed consciousness that all this manifestation was because my people loved me. My husband was walking by the side of my wagon, and the tramp of the soldiers was growing shorter as we neared our home, while the throng of sympathetic followers who had attended our march grew less only when we reached our very doorway. My return thus to my people and my family from the very border of death left an impression upon me which is too sacred for any description.
On arrival I asked to be placed in one of the cottages on our grounds, preferring to occupy this small, one-story house rather than to be carried upstairs to the more commodious apartments of the great house known as Washington Place. My wishes were complied with at once by my kind husband and faithful attendants.
The nature of my injuries was such that a long rest was required. At first it was thought my back was broken by my fall; for when I endeavored to rise after recovering from the first shock, it was impossible to do so, nor could I change in any way my position until
