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 nevertheless he sent his Durwan, next morning, to demand repayment from my waggish friend. Old S— would have possibly found his match in our simple Maori maiden.

The "tangi," as the funeral feast and ceremony is called, was now in full swing. The weeping and wailing were even more demonstrative than that of the day previous; but we were told that the evening would be wound up with a general gorge, and possibly a drunken spree.

In the church the men sat on one side and the women on the other. The singing was pleasing, but peculiar. The strains reminded me somewhat of India. We went all through the neglected graveyard. We peeped into many of the little pent-house receptacles for the dead, and saw coffins both big and small, and then after a glorious bath in the Madame Rachel Fountain down at Sulphur Point, we lunched, and started for Wairoa.

On this side, the lake is bordered by a great flat plain, and at Sulphur Point—as it is called—lies the Government township. The only buildings at present are—the Government baths, the post and telegraph office, a spacious empty hospital, and doctor's and attendants' quarters. The baths are well arranged, capitally managed, and every comfort is provided in the shape of towels, shower-bath, and all the usual accessories of a modern hydropathic establishment. During our stay we tried the temper of all the baths. We found the Priest's bath the warmest and most relaxing, but for pure unalloyed Sybaritic