Horrible as these stories are, they are mere trifles compared with many which are known to be facts, but which are utterly tales of the past wherever the _lotu_ has spread. I am sure that in all England you have had no congregation more devout than that which assembled here at dawn this morning. We returned from Nivotheene late yesterday evening in a drizzling rain, and found a great company waiting to present a roast pig in a large wooden dish; and another party had brought us puddings all the way from Nundiokar. So we spent Christmas Eve feasting! This morning—Christmas Day—the village was early astir, and soon after six the beating of the _lalis_ summoned us to morning service. The _lalis_ are the Fijian substitute for bells: a solid block of wood, six or eight feet in length, is hollowed out, like a canoe, and when struck with two sticks produces a deep reverberating tone, which is heard at an immense distance. Most villages have two of these lying side by side, and when struck by skilful players they are capable of producing an immense variety of notes. So you see we had Christmas chimes even in Fiji. The church was large, but not large enough for the congregation and the doors were, as usual in this district, so low that I had to stoop double to enter. With no window overhead the atmosphere may be imagined, though something has been done in the way of a simple system of ventilation, by passing a number of hollow bamboos through the roof, of course at such an angle as not to let rain enter. Unfortunately the whole congregation seemed afflicted with severe coughs and colds, and as yet it has not occurred to any charitable people at home to send out a shipload of pocket-handkerchiefs for the poor Fijians. I heartily wished on this occasion that some one had done so. In these mountain districts the intense heat of the day is often succeeded at night by the rising of a dense mist, which lies in the valleys like a quiet lake, and steals into the houses, chilling the sleepers, few of whom own any warm covering to counteract the sudden change of temperature, which, consequently, is very trying indeed; and coughs and snuffles are almost as common as in a British community. I observe that the act of sneezing here, as in most other lands, calls forth a kindly greeting. Here the familiar “Viva,” or “Bless you,” takes the form of _Mbula!_ “May you live!” or “Health to you!” to which the sneezer replies, _Mole_, “Thanks;” in former days custom required him to add, “May you club some one!” or “May your wife have twins!”[25]