Monday, November 11, 1929
Read Mencken till two AM. Always gives you plenty of food for thought—enough to put you to sleep anyway. Strangely enough I turned out at seven. Eddy and Jeff called for me at ten and we went to the Armistice Day Parade at Thomas Square. It was quite a parade; numerous bands, D.A.R.s, Spanish American War veterans, sewing circles [surprise!!], school girl volunteers in white dresses and uniforms, R.O.T.C.s from several schools—it is incorporated in the high schools here aside from the University—their girl sponsors in uniforms, more bands, cars, girl scouts, boy scouts, soldiers, and probably Sunday school classes, Rotary clubs, and last but not least the Salvation Army. All in all the parade was a success, and certainly the day was—a glorious sunny morning and all that rot.
The interior of the Embree domicile disclosed Vance in his bathing suit as usual. Jeff, Vance, and I went swimming at the Memorial Tank while Eddy sunned herself in the back yard. A clever detective might have located John in his mysterious wing of the house thinking up puns to pull at dinner. Only he is privileged to crack a pun and his fame is universal—no punable situation is ever missed.
Finished Wells’ A Year of Prophesying after lunch. An interesting book. Wells’ outlook on life and world problems appeal to me. John writes short stories for a magazine, the Honolulu Mercury. Read one of his—a good one too—then started The Revolt of the Angels by Anatole France.
Went to a dinner dance at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel tonight—Eddy and Jeff, Flora Walker and John, Ruth Tay and I. For this occasion I donned one of John’s suits. He is a bit taller than I am but his clothes fit reasonably well—sleeves a bit lengthy perhaps, but what of it.
The dinner was good and plenty of it, helped along by music and plenty of dances. As before, the place was well crowded. There were several special acts during the evening—a Spanish dance, toe dance, gypsy dance, two Japanese dances by a little Jap girl accompanied by a Jap woman on the native instrument. It was very fine. The kid really did jolly well, even to the facial expressions.
Later the Hawaiian Women’s Glee Club sang a number of pieces. You can’t help being crazy over them. Full of personality, fine voices, and harmony. Unfortunately they sang but two songs in Hawaiian. Boy, they were knockouts. The Hawaiian language of almost all vowels is musical, but when one sings it—well, time to forget English. Accompanied by guitars and ukuleles, the score of women put out a bang-up treat.
Ruth is a nice kid but you have to figure her out. She has a little inferiority complex and hides behind an appearance nonchalant, a bit strained if you observe closely, and sometimes perhaps seemingly a little chilly. However, she is intelligent, well-read and traveled, and interested in things. Once I had made her forget the complex, she opened up splendidly and talked sense about a wide range of subjects—mostly astronomy, religion, art (religious), music, etc.
Well, here it is 2 AM again. Called up the Harbor Master today. He reports the Ethan Allan as due Wednesday.