A number of them come here to consult Sir George upon various matters. Most of them are very fine men; and what particularly strikes us is seeing how well they look in comfortable woollen suits. I believe the Maoris always did wear plenty of clothes—at least large blankets, beautifully made either of flax or _kiwi_ feathers. When Mr Maudslay was in their country last week, he showed them a number of Fijian photographs, at which they looked with keen interest; but were much shocked by the undress of the girls, which, they remarked, was even worse than that of the ladies at the Government House balls! The climate here is delicious: each day is like a very lovely English summer, or like our coolest days in Fiji. Indeed our life here is much the same as if we were living on one of the Fijian isles,—just as isolated and self-contained. Only once a-week does a steamer call with the mails, and great is the excitement it occasions. All the families living on the island (numbering about six, gardener, carpenter, shepherds, and labourers) assemble on the beach with all their babies. The six house-maidens, three of whom are the daughters of one of the resident families, also turn out. They wear neat cotton dresses, and large straw-hats, trimmed with white muslin and black velvet; and very nice and simple they look. Sir George extends to all his people the same genial cordiality and genuine kindness by which he makes us feel so thoroughly at home here. His one wish is that all should enjoy this little paradise of peace and beauty as much as he does himself. So every girl in the house is allowed two hours’ walk every afternoon, and the whole of Sunday afternoon; and once a-week they have a dance, to which they invite the few swains within reach, and have a very lively evening. Most of their fathers own a bit of land somewhere, and they will probably marry small landowners. Such a sad thing happened quite lately on the mainland just opposite here. A young man had just received his bride elect from her parents, and the two started alone to ride to Auckland (distant about twenty-five miles), there to get married. In the dusk he struck a match to light his pipe. His horse reared, threw him down a bank, and he was killed instantly. The wretched girl had to ride on alone till she reached a house, where she found people, who returned with her to rescue his body. Certainly the dwellers in thinly-peopled districts have to face many a rough bit on their path through life.