We followed the course of the stream, and waded through the taro gardens, and finally found ourselves in the most advantageous position for a photograph. It ought to be good, after all my efforts to secure the picture, but I could not get far enough away. While I have been writing this, since I began the last sentence, an earthquake shock has shaken the place very perceptibly, and, why I know not, has left a tremour all over me, which I cannot explain. The picture being shot off, I hastened back to where the eel catching was going on. The water was cleverly dammed off above two large pools, and then one pool “teemed” out with buckets. In the first pool nothing was discovered, and the next proceeding was to empty the full pool into the now empty one. This took some time, but it was finally accomplished, and one large eel was captured, the sole occupant of the pool, and the only sport afforded after a long day’s work. Disappointment was depicted on all countenances, and I was rather disgusted too, having expected to see some sport. I comforted myself with a most glorious bathe in the broad flowing river, and hastened home to drown my disappointment in a cup of tea. After school this evening, I was sitting here alone, when four men came in, in whispers, and shut the door behind them, and when they had sat down, they said, still in the lowest accents, “we wish to see your Eucharistic vessels.” I proceeded to exhibit them, and they seemed quite awe struck. Miss Patteson would have been pleased to have seen how her noble gift was valued and appreciated. The exhibition of the beautiful vessels gave me much food for conversation with these men, and I told them I hoped the day was not far distant when they would be regularly used in the Church here, and they themselves be partakers from them of the Blessed Tokens of Redeeming Love, the bread of the world in mercy broken, the wine of the soul in mercy shed.