As we emerged on the broad road which leads up the
Nuuanu Valley to the mountains, we saw many patches of this kalo, a
very handsome tropical plant, with large leaves of a bright tender
green. Each plant was growing on a small hillock, with water round
it. There were beautiful vegetable gardens also, in which Chinamen
raise for sale not only melons, pineapples, sweet potatoes, and
other edibles of hot climates, but the familiar fruits and
vegetables of the temperate zones. In patches of surpassing
neatness, there were strawberries, which are ripe here all the year,
peas, carrots, turnips, asparagus, lettuce, and celery. I saw no
other plants or trees which grow at home, but recognized as hardly
less familiar growths the Victorian Eucalyptus, which has not had
time to become gaunt and straggling, the Norfolk Island pine, which
grows superbly here, and the handsome Moreton Bay fig. But the
chief feature of this road is the number of residences; I had almost
written of pretentious residences, but the term would be a base
slander, as I have jumped to the conclusion that the twin
vulgarities of ostentation and pretence have no place here. But
certainly for a mile and a half or more there are many very
comfortable-looking dwellings, very attractive to the eye, with an
ease and imperturbable serenity of demeanour as if they had nothing
to fear from heat, cold, wind, or criticism.
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