Flu Gone From

Tahiti

But Opium-smokers Are Sad

From Our Own Correspondent

T„„ . Papeete, Sept. 4.

HE influenza epidemic has abated. We can now go about without smearing the mucous membranes of our nostrils with ill-smelling pomades, garg ling nauseous mixtures, and swallowing prophylactic medicines.

The schools are open; so are the churches, and the honky-tonks. The Brotherhood of the Bottle are rejoicing over liberal arrivals from Australia of their favourite beverages. The news from the war fronts is excellent.

Everybody has reason to hold some measure of happiness— except the opium smoking Chinaman. The opium addict looks into an arid and bleak future. All the sources of his magic carpet to the Land of Dreams are cut off. Reserve supplies, hidden and guarded, are shrink ing to the vanishing point. We hear of prodigious sums being offered for small measures of opium.

Our younger generation of Chinese do note smoke opium. They are aware that the drug will be interdicted in the new China of the post-war world.

I believe young Chinamen from all parts of the world will aid in fashioning 7 the new China by contributing the know ledge they have gained during their residence in foreign lands. Future migration is more likely to be to, rather than from, China.

The story of opium smuggling, in pre war days, would be an entertaining narrative. The traffic was not carried on by Chinamen. Every old resident knows the identity of the spider in the centre of the web. But one could not produce any fragment of tangible proof; so the story will have to remain untold.

No Polynesian here has acquired the opium habit. Only Chinamen and some Europeans have fallen victims. Opium stupor is too solemn an intoxication to appeal to the merry Tahitian.