hat are the river reeds whispering,
In music so sweet and low?
Ah, these are the words they murmur,
"My tale would you like to know?"
"O reeds by the shining water,
I'll listen all day, all day,
If you will tell me your story
Whilst the river rolls away."
Spake the reed—"I'm a maid named Syrinx,
And there once lived a god named Pan;
He liked me, but I didn't like him,
So away to the woods I ran.
"I ran very swiftly, but swifter
The rough god Pan did pursue,
Then I cried to the gods, on Olympus,
'There are none to help me but you!'
"I came to a shining river,
And thirsty I stooped to drink,
And the kindly gods changed me into
A reed on the river's brink.
"Then Pan grew quite melancholy,
And gathered the reeds, and made
A pipe; and he thought of me ever
When he on his pan-pipe played."
A FEW WORDS ABOUT TATTOOING.
tattooed new zealander.
Some of the readers of these pages, I dare say, saw King Tawhiao, the Maori chief, who visited England in the summer of 1884. If so, they could not have failed to notice the curious designs that were traced upon his face. These scroll-like marks were the result of an operation which lasted for six weeks, and which was attended with extreme pain. The process is called tattooing, and a person who has undergone it is said to be tattooed. It is practised very extensively amongst the natives of New Zealand and the South Sea Islands generally, women as well as men, whose bodies are covered with patterns of an elaborate, or fantastic, or picturesque description, though sometimes the design is of a comparatively simple sort. Nearly every British sailor has tattoo-marks on his arm—an anchor, ship, initials, or what not—and unless I am much mistaken, some of the lads now perusing these sentences have now and then ornamented (or disfigured) their hands and arms with similar signs.
In New Zealand the tattoo-marks run in unbroken lines, while in the South Sea Islands they are in dotted lines. The pain of the process in both cases is most acute, especially in the former. In New Zealand the figures are formed by driving little chisels, which have been dipped in some colouring-matter, through the skin. In the South Sea Islands a series of punctures are made with a fish-bone, which is, however, sometimes used as a needle. Every variety of design is employed—trees, flowers, animals, weapons, and so forth. It is considered a disgrace for the person being tattooed to give way to any sign of suffering, but as the pain is so exquisite, cries of torture occasionally rise to the lips. In order, therefore, to drown such cries, and so preserve the patient's reputation for bravery, it is usual for a number of his female friends to sing songs throughout the operation. Some tattooers acquire great skill in their art, and will form a design which shall be beautiful, elaborate, or otherwise, according to the fee. But in any case it is well to deal liberally with the artist, lest he should allow the chisel to slip "accidentally on purpose," and produce a permanent disfigurement instead of a fine design. The colouring-matter in which the tool is dipped is a thick mixture, prepared by rubbing down charcoal in oil or water. The pattern appears black on a brown skin, and dark blue on the skin of a white man, and is of course indelible.
Since the process is so painful, why do the Maoris and others submit themselves to it? They look upon the tattooing as a kind of personal adornment; and, you know, there is no accounting for tastes. The ways of savage and civilised races are past finding out. Some wear articles in their noses, ears, and lips; others flatten the heads of their babies. Chinese ladies' feet are compressed to such an extent that they wobble when they walk. The Zulus and other peoples arrange their hair in the most extraordinary styles. These peculiar fashions are no doubt indulged in under the impression that they add to the beauty of those who adopt them. And so we find it in the case of tattooing, though the custom is also supposed—in the case of men—to mark the transition from youth to manhood, being performed usually at that period. To a small extent it is also believed to be employed as a badge of mourning or sign of respect for a departed friend. The tattoo is regarded as an honour, and is reserved for free men only, slaves in New Zealand not being permitted to undergo the operation. Oddly enough, those who are accustomed to see tattooed people think that natives without it look bare and "unfinished." Tattooing is said to be on the wane. If it be so, it is quite possible that Macaulay's famous New Zealander may present none of those marks which distinguished the features of King Tawhiao.