had a fine view of the sea, stretching away into the far distance,
though it was sometimes mistaken for the bright blue sky, until the
surf could be seen breaking upon the black rocks, amid the encircling
groves of cocoa-nut trees.

The sun shone fiercely at intervals, and the rain came down several
times in torrents. The pace was slow, the road was dull and dreary,
and many were the inquiries made for the 'Half-way House,' long before
we reached it. We had still two miles farther to go, in the course of
which we were drenched by a heavy shower. At last we came to a native
house, crowded with people, where they were making _tappa_ or
_kapa_--the cloth made from the bark of the paper-mulberry. Here we
stopped for a few minutes until our guide hurried us on, pointing out
the church and the 'Half-way House' just ahead.

We were indeed glad to dismount after our weary ride, and rest in the
comfortable rocking-chairs under the verandah. It is a small white
wooden building, overhung with orange-trees, with a pond full of ducks
and geese outside it, and a few scattered outbuildings, including a
cooking hut, close by. A good-looking man was busy broiling
beef-steaks, stewing chickens, and boiling _taro_, and we had soon a
plentiful repast set before us, with the very weakest of weak tea as a
beverage. The woman of the house, which contained some finely worked
mats and clean-looking beds, showed us some _tappa cloth_, together
with the mallets and other instruments used in its manufacture, and a
beautiful orange-coloured _lei_, or feather necklace, which she had
made herself. The cloth and mallets were for sale, but no inducement
would persuade her to part with the necklace. It was the first she had
ever made, and I was afterwards told that the natives are
superstitiously careful to preserve the first specimen of their