In years to come, when his grave is perchance forgotten, a rugged ruin, home of the lizard and the bat, Tusitala - the story-teller - ‘the man with a heart of gold’ (as I so often heard him designated in the Islands), will live, when it may be his tales have ceased to interest, in the tender remembrance of those whose lives he beautified, and whose hearts he warmed into gratitude.