out to you, when writing from Fiji, respecting the customs of its chiefs.
I have just heard that a very leaky ship is to sail for Sydney to-morrow, and a better one starts for New Zealand next week; so in order to lose no chance of a letter reaching you, I shall despatch this viâ Sydney, and send you another viâ New Zealand. Meanwhile, good-bye.
CHAPTER XI.
Care of the Rev. James Green,
Paofai, Papeete, Tahiti, Saturday, 13th.
Dearest Nell,—It is high time I sent you a cheerier letter than the last, which was written just after our dreary arrival in a dismal storm, and further overshadowed by the distressing manner in which our happy party was so summarily dispersed. With the exception of that one sad cloud, no drawback of any sort has arisen. The cordial kindness of every creature here, the easy luxury of very simple social life, a heavenly climate, and the dreamlike loveliness of the isles, all combine to make up as charming a whole as can possibly be conceived. It is the sort of place in which one is made to feel at home at once: from the moment I landed every one seems to have tried what he or she could do for the enjoyment of the stranger. It is a region of true hospitality.
Certainly this is a very pretty little town. Its simple village streets are all laid out as boulevards, and form pleasant shady avenues, the commonest tree being the pretty yellow hybiscus with the claret-coloured heart, so common in Fiji, where it is called surya. Here its name is boorau. The names of the streets recall Parisian memories. The shadiest and widest street is the Chinese quarter, and its poor little wooden houses are Chinese stores and
