The way Mr. Richards talks about Hispanics in Hawaii is so politically incorrect and racist. The book was written in 1917 so I suppose people could get away with talking that way at the time. Obviously there is no way today that anyone could get away talking about Hispanics this way without getting stabbed to death by the bloodthirsty, vengeful, murderous "Raza." Mr. Richards says of the many Puerto Ricans in Hawaii: "Of the polyglot population of Honolulu, perhaps the least hopeful from an economic point of view are the few Porto Ricans....Brought to the Islands to promote the sugar industry, not a few of them have left the plantations and have drifted to Honolulu, for much the same reasons that congest our large cities on the mainland....In one of the most "submerged" portions of the city there was a shack of utterly shiftless and riotous Porto Ricans. Their children did not go to school and scorned anything much in the way of clothing. The institution of marriage had been long since lost sight of; they were living "haiku," as the Hawaiians put it when they want to call domestic relations 'mixed.'"
The Filipinos fare poorly also in Mr. Richards' estimation.
"Many outsiders told us that they were a wild people and that they never would be any good; that all the robberies and murders are committed by them." All of which Tommy admits, adding to the indictment that there were "some mightily bad ones among them." He goes on to prove their worldliness by what seems to us as "judging them in respect to meats," or, rather, vegetables. He declares tat they are great lovers of leeks and onions. This somehow suggests "Egypt" to us, and we wonder whether Brother Tommy was not straining at a scriptural parallel, thinking of those poor whilom bond slaves yearning so for the odorous garlic despite the hard service in bricks.
"So now the Filipinos," says Brother Tommy, "planted their biggest crop in leeks and onions, and all around the mission house was planted a beautiful crop of them." This pointed in the direction of good works, so Tommy thought; it was far better than weeds. "But now" — note the triumph of it — "the leeks and onions have been pulled out, and in letters of small red flowers 'PAHOA MISSION' has been planted, to be seen by all passers on the public road, while on the sides are fern trees, and some of the bird's-nest variety, and roses, and on the edge, a row of hibiscus. So now you see the gospel made them change from leeks and onions to roses and ferns."
What think you of that proof of the gospel? Plantation men might not agree. From utility to sentiment would spell no progression to them. As for us, the Egypt-Canaan figure appeals, aside from some inherent prejudice against garlic.
"Also in front of their own houses they are planting flowers and trees where before only weeds and wild grass grew." This is conclusive. The same fruit of the gospel has appeared among the Japanese in the Islands, of which the Hawaiian Board records have much to tell us.
But there is a nobler fruit still: "Now they come to services. We hunt for them no more under beds and behind doors and between ceilings and roof." It is either a new habit or a new taste, or both. There is evidently something in that mission for which they come. So much is clear.
So whether the Hispanics have progressed is a question of fruits. As with all peoples and nations, we judge them by their fruits.
