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 or embankment all the way. My ladies were nervous; my horse was likewise. My road was barely wide enough for two vehicles to pass, and the frail rope with which I had spliced my splintered splinter bar threatened to give at every tug. Under such circumstances I must be excused if I failed to see the vaunted beauty of Dunedin from the harbour. My wife says it was exquisite, beautiful, lovely, &c. As a dutiful husband, I endorse the dictum of my wife.

Dunedin from the harbour is beautiful.

One noteworthy feature of Dunedin, one grand feature, I may say, is its Grand Hotel. This is unique in the Southern hemisphere, and would not disgrace New York. Under Mr. Watson's able management the visitor finds himself relieved from every care. The dining-room and public drawing-rooms are palatial apartments. The private sitting-rooms are models of elegance and comfort. The bedrooms are without a fault, and the bath-rooms are luxurious to a degree. The table would satisfy the most fastidious; and if you want a more obliging hall-porter than "long Charley," with his cadaverous eyes, well, you must be hard to please—that's all.

While I am in the praising mood, I must not omit to mention Burton Brothers for photographs of New Zealand scenery. If Bourne and Shepherd be a household word in India for collections of photography, surely Burton's is equally famous in New Zealand, and deservedly so. A visit to their atelier embraces all New Zealand. You