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HE second day of the stay of our friends at Levuka was Sunday, and the party attended the Episcopal church in the forenoon, where service was conducted by a clergyman who had recently arrived from London. In the afternoon they strolled to the native village outside the town, where they found some fifty or sixty Feejeeans squatted on the mat-covered floor of the neat and well-swept church listening to a preacher of their own race. They were amused to see a tall man armed with a long stick with which he occasionally touched the heads of those who were inattentive, and sometimes his touch was far from light. Frank thought the idea would not be a bad one for churches nearer home, where worshippers have been known to go to sleep during the sermon.

The preacher was a tall, fine-looking man of at least fifty years, and he spoke with an eloquence that indicated his earnestness and fervor. Of course his language was unknown to our friends, but they all agreed that the Feejeean tongue is capable of much expression. It contains many guttural sounds that do not always strike the American or English ear agreeably, and the orator seemed to speak with more rapidity than is compatible with a clear understanding on the part of his hearers. When the sermon was ended the preacher offered a prayer, and then a hymn was sung by the whole congregation. The air was a familiar Methodist one, but the words were Feejeean. Whether the