"Tonga" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... answered an old Indian, making a sign which checked me; "our brother has but drunk the tonga; his spirit has departed for a season to hold communication with the spirits of our ancestors, and when it returns he will be able to tell us things of wonder, and perchance they may show him the treasures which lie hid ...
— Manco, the Peruvian Chief - An Englishman's Adventures in the Country of the Incas • W.H.G. Kingston
... very bad, indeed, that I felt it my duty to go forthwith to the skipper, report the matter to him, and ask for instructions; my own idea being that we ought to head for the Samoa or Tonga group, and procure properly qualified medical assistance with as little ...
— Turned Adrift • Harry Collingwood
... verses of magazines, but of poetry itself wherever it was found. He read favorite single lines from Byron's 'Island,' giving Byron great praise, as if in view of the injustice which has been done him in our time. After Byron's poem he read a lyric written by a traveler to the Tonga Islands, which is in Martin's 'Travels;' also a noble poem called 'The Soul,' and a sonnet, by Wordsworth. We were all entranced as the magic of his sympathetic voice passed from one poetic vision to another. Indeed, we could not ...
— Authors and Friends • Annie Fields
... Pacific which had risen out of a state of the most complete savagedom. Now, in the eastern part of the ocean, whole groups have embraced Christianity. The Sandwich Islands are rapidly advancing in civilisation, and King George of Tonga, himself a man of much talent, though once a savage, ruled over a large population of enlightened men, a large number of whom possess a better knowledge of the Scriptures, and would be able to ...
— Washed Ashore - The Tower of Stormount Bay • W.H.G. Kingston
... the startled mind even a momentary impression of security. The road from Simla to Kalka at the foot of the hills is so narrow that if two vehicles meet, the one has to draw up to the edge of the road, while the other passes on its way. In view of the frequent encounters, every tonga-driver is provided with a post horn of tremendous power and most discordant harmony; for the road is covered with bullock carts bearing provisions and stores to the hill station. Smaller loads, such as trunks and other luggage, are generally carried by coolies, who follow ...
— Mr. Isaacs • F. Marion Crawford
... bowls at Conrad's, and went on baking bread and rolls much as usual. Poor Rosalie drooped like a flower in the sun, and though she had pride enough to act a part and show a becoming spirit before the world, she had received a wound that I sometimes feared might prove mortal. I sent her to Tonga Taboo for a month, and she came back no better, her eyes black ringed and her cheeks hollow, and her smile (always to me the most beautiful smile in the world), with a curious, haunting pathos that I remember so well in the old slaving days among the Line ...
— Wild Justice: Stories of the South Seas • Lloyd Osbourne
... warrior, "holding up the little finger of his left hand to the Great Spirit," ... "expresses his willingness to give it as a sacrifice, and he lays it on the dried buffalo skull, when another chops it off near the hand with a blow of the hatchet." According to Mariner the natives of Tonga cut off a portion of the little finger as a sacrifice to the gods for the recovery of a superior sick relative. The Australians have a custom of cutting off the last joint of the little finger of females as a token of submission to powerful beings alive and dead. A Hottentot ...
— Anomalies and Curiosities of Medicine • George M. Gould
... across the Indian Ocean from the westward, had touched at Tasmania, or, as he called it, Van Diemen's Land, had skirted the western coast of the north island of New Zealand without landing, and had stretched away to the north-east, and found the Tonga Group. ...
— Captain Cook's Journal During the First Voyage Round the World • James Cook
... me die, and I . . . I let it live. That is the story. I let my family live. Furthermore, it was not my family's fault. I never whimpered. I never let on. I melted the last of my silver spoon—South Sea cotton, an' it please you, cacao in Tonga, rubber and mahogany in Yucatan. And do you know, at the end, I slept in Bowery lodging-houses and ate scrapple in East-Side feeding-dens, and, on more than one occasion, stood in the bread-line at midnight and pondered whether or not I should ...
— Michael, Brother of Jerry • Jack London |
