I have frequently heard an European confess that he had a great deal to say, but he could not express himself for want of words. The fluency of speech, and powers of conversation are not confined here to the weaker sex, and I think the men have quite as long tongues as the women, although I do not think they chatter so much or make such a clatter. Some of the men are great wits, and make fun for the multitude, but I do not think this applies to the women. The Maewo folks are great “laughers,” and go off into fits of cacchination at the smallest joke. They are a most simple, good-natured race certainly, and it is hard to conceive of their being such depraved savages, so gentle are they in their ways. After school with the teachers in the evening, during which we discussed our Sunday programme, we had Evensong, and afterwards a long singing practice. Miss Mount’s generous gift is a most welcome addition to our singing, and Arthur Huqe begins to play the harmonium very nicely at the services. Our singing is very fair on the whole, but there is room for improvement, and we have the ability if I could get the girls to use their very nice voices. In the old familiar hymns and chants they sing out lustily, but when we attempt anything new, they shut up altogether, without making a trial to join in. _Sunday, August 15th._--There are two very homely sounds which break the stillness of the early morning here, and the first is the cock which seems to have a peculiar faculty for crowing in these latitudes, he starts his chant before commerce is awake and he keeps religiously at it all day long. Here at Maewo, too, these birds are in prodigal abundance, their flesh is esteemed very delicate food, and is kept for great and exalted occasions. Here the male takes precedence of the female even in the matter of dumb animals, and sows and hens are looked upon as only fit food for women. The crow of the first cock is a signal for a general chorus, and then the natives begin to stir. As soon as they appear on the threshold of their doors another chorus takes up the morning song, and the pigs begin their squealing. Whether it is that one looks for more peace on Sunday morning, or whether one perchance is a trifle more inclined to take a little more sleep or a little more slumber, whatever the actual cause may be, I always notice that on Sundays there is always a greater noise from the domestic animals than on ordinary days. The pigs here are hand fed, and will not be denied, they squeal to their hearts’ content until they have their morning meal, and being in considerable numbers the noise is not sleep producing. In old days these animals were kept for their heathen feasts, but as of late these have fallen into disuse, so the pigs have increased until they have become one of the features of the place. At a Baptism or any great Church Festival such as Christmas, Easter, Pentecost, one or more male animals