To these instruments they sing; and, as I have observed before, their songs are often extempore: they call every two verses or couplet a song, _Pehay_: they are generally, though not always, in rhime; and when pronounced by the natives, we could discover that they were metre. Mr. Banks took great pains to write down some of them which were made upon our arrival, as nearly as he could express their sounds by combinations of our letters; but when we read them, not having their accent, we could scarcely make them either metre or rhime. The reader will easily perceive that they are of very different structure. Tede pahai de parow-a Ha maru no mina. E pahah Tayo malama tai ya No Tabane tonatou whannomi ya. E Turai eattu terara patee whennua toai Ino o maio Pretane to whennuaia no Tute. Of these verses our knowledge of the language is too imperfect to attempt a translation. They frequently amuse themselves by singing such couplets as these when they are alone, or with their families, especially after it is dark; for though they need no fires, they are not without the comfort of artificial light between sunset and bedtime. Their candles are made of the kernels of a kind of oily nut, which they stick one over another upon a skewer that is thrust through the middle of them; the upper one being lighted, burns down to the second, at the same time consuming that part of the skewer which goes through it; the second taking fire burns in the same manner down to the third, and so of the rest: some of these candles will burn a considerable time, and they give a very tolerable light. They do not often sit up above an hour after it is dark; but when they have strangers who sleep in the house, they generally keep a light burning all night, possibly as a check upon such of the women as they wish not to honour them with their favours. Of their itinerary concerts I need add nothing to what has been said already; especially as I shall have occasion more particularly to mention them when I relate our adventures upon another island.