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86 A Theatrical Boarding-House in Sydneyresting precisely upon the top of his stick.On his right sits a small, rather prettywoman, whose distinguishing feature is anabsolute perfection of attire. That isWilliam's wife.On his left sits a little old lady, withgray hair confined beneath a bonnet ofunalterable style. Her face is calm anddivinely contented. Her eyes are fixedupon William with the pride that passethall understanding.That is mommie.A THEATRICAL BOARDING-HOUSEINSYDNEYBy Isobel Field[NOTE.—Mrs. Salisbury Field, who was Mrs. Strong at the time described in thesememoirs, is the daughter of the late Mrs. Robert Louis Stevenson. She is referredto frequently in the Vailima Letters as " Belle," and by her native name of " Teuila."She acted as amanuensis to R. L. S. during the last years of his life in Samoa, writingall of his voluminous correspondence, besides the two novels "St. Ives" and "Hermiston."]EVERY member of my familywas leaving on theschooner Equator for theSouth Seas, to be gone indefinitely.If I went withthem, it would mean leavingmy little boy at a boarding-school inHonolulu. He was too young to take ona long, hazardous voyage in such a tinycraft. I knew if I left without him itwould spoil any pleasure the trip couldgive me; yet to have stayed on in Honolulu,much as I loved the place, wouldhave meant all the dreariness of being"left behind." Suddenly Mr. Stevensonhit upon the grand idea that I should goby steamer to Sydney, and wait there forthe arrival of the Equator. It would giveme a new interest, I would see strangelands and people, and could take Austinwith me.I had never travelled on my own responsibilitybefore. So far I had been"personally conducted" through life.The idea of starting off for the antipodes(I liked the sound of the word) had allthe novelty and excitement of a daringadventure. Mr. Stevenson made all thearrangements for me. A sum of moneywas to be sent to a certain bank in Sydney,from which I was to draw a statedsum monthly. The address of a boardinghousewhere I was to stay was writtendown, as well as the name of the hotelwhere I should go immediately on landing.My ticket was bought, stateroomengaged, and a fat little purse handed mefor expenses on the way, and each memberof the family gave me advice. I wascautioned against undesirable strangerswho made overtures of friendship, and itwas suggested that I choose among thepassengers a quiet married couple andput myself under their protection.Now that such agreeable plans werearranged for me, it was easier to watchthe preparations for the departure of theEquator. Even a real hurdy-gurdy (thetalking-machines were not in popular usethen) which we tried out in the eveningsand a magic lantern with religious slideslent by a missionary did not stir my heartto envy. I helped my mother stringbeads and make wreaths of artificialflowers, for presents to give to the islanderson their travels, without a pang.While the family talked of native villages,atolls, lagoons, and the Line Islands, mythoughts were busy with parrots, cherriesthat grow with stones outside, kangaroos,and boomerangs.The schooner Equator looked a tinycockle-shell as she sailed out of the harboramong all the huge steamers and men-of-