solve the problem by saying it is a “Wui,” (spirit). And it must seem strange to them as all our belongings must being of an order of art, so far removed from their conceptions or achievements. A kerosene lamp to this day is a marvel to them, and the manipulation equally mysterious, why it should flare up when turned one way, and why it should die when turned the other. One old woman who has been very sick and up to-day for the first time, came with the crowd and greeted me in the most maternal manner, grasping my hand in both her own, and calling me “Baua,” an obsolete word now, but belonging to a district called “Loqala” which was utterly devastated years ago by enemies among whom were these very people of Tanrig. This old lady and her son Samuel, now my head teacher at Tasmouri, are the sole survivors I believe, and she retains the expression or appelation by which a grandmother greets her grandson. I brought a box of refuse toys from Norfolk Island to which our boys and girls there have grown superior, and the exhibition and distribution of them created quite a furore. One would never suppose in these days of superior enlightenment that any people could be found simple enough to go into ecstacies over a halfpenny toy, but these women and children have gone off perfectly enraptured with their new possessions, and I dare say they will treasure them up for many a day and find pleasure in the contemplation and exhibition of them. One poor young mother has just brought in great distress her infant child which she says is suffering from a pain in its side, and the only remedy I can conceive of is a dose of castor oil. The father comes around to my side of the table, and whispers that it has not been ‘washed’ yet, meaning that it has not been Baptized, and that it has no name. While writing this Samuel appeared with another friend from Tasmouri, and I went with them to the beach where all the population had previously gone. Our path lay through the carefully and skilfully irrigated taro fields, and of course it was very bad in some places. Crossing one place I made a false step and went up to my knees, it was a fitting judgment on my pride for I refused the assistance of a stalwart follower’s back, which had borne me dry and safely over two such places before. I presented a strangely harlequin appearance with white flannel trowsers above the knee, and black mud gaiters below. However appearances are easily pardoned here, and the only grief was at my own discomfort. The people of course all said it was because the roads were so bad, but that was too palpable a truism, and was no relief to my feelings. Bootless and trowserless, these paddy paths make no difference to them, and mud has not the same appearance on a black skin. However we went to the sea-shore and saw the sport which was not much. One very large fish was caught with a hook and line, and the women had great horse-loads of shell fish, but generally the bowmen came off badly.