Two Tributes From Samoa

Samoa

IT is with the most profound regret that we have learned of the passing of Robert Dean Frisbie (“Ropati” to those of his close, understanding friends), author of the well-known Puka Puka series; one of the vanguard of the old authors long since enveloped in the shadowy mists of the great South Seas — Pierre Loti, Herman Melville. Frederick O’Brien, Robert Keable, R. L. Stevenson; a personality belonging entirely to this past golden age, so tenaciously maintain ing a representative hold in the last remaining few.

Without the arts, all the world would be Bedlam. His life, as a true artist, was a continual struggle and sacrifice in the recapturing and creating of the spirit of

the lonely South Seas atolls, for the en joyment and happiness of others in their leisure hours.

“Ropati” was not of this materialistic, factual world. He was rather of the imaginative, idealistic-visionary plane—a world neither of substance nor form— and so to us he personified the essence and the spirit of those lonely, isolated islets where he so loved to be.

We pass on to a greater presence to be neither judged nor condemned by any mere mortal man. Many who live in flimsy glass houses are so prone to judge —their personalities infinitely small and nameless—their lives devoted to any cause but the furthering of any aesthetic ideals.

The works of “Ropati” the man will be always the treasured possession of our memories. la soifua lava,

Charles Mcphee.

DURING the many months friend Fris bie lived with his little tribe of children in my home with me, I dis covered and cherished his good heart. He certainly had his ups and downs, and he had unfortunately at times caved in under life’s blows —but always to stand up again.

I can find no more fitting tribute to my dear friend Prisbie’s character than these verses which I discovered a few years back and which he really liked: “Here lies one who took life’s chances In this busy world of men, Battled fate and circumstances, Fought, and lost, and fought again; Won sometimes and did no crowing, Lost sometimes and 'did not wail, Took his beating, kept on going, Never let his spirit fail!

He was fallible and human.

Therefore loved and understood Both his fellow men and women, Whether good, or not so good; Kept his courage undiminished; Never false to any friend— Played the game, till it was finished, Was a sportsman to the end!

R. T. Berking

Apia, Samoa, Dec., 1948