My greatest interest and occupation consist in going to look at my
house, which is being cut out in Christchurch, and will be drayed to
our station next month, a journey of fifty miles. It is, of course,
only of wood, and seems about as solid as a band-box; but I am
assured by the builder that it will be a "most superior article"
when it is all put together. F--- and I made the little plan of it
ourselves, regulating the size of the drawing-room by the dimensions
of the carpet we brought out, and I petitioned for a little
bay-window, which is to be added; so on my last visit to his
timber-yard, the builder said, with an air of great dignity, "Would
you wish to see the _h_oriel, mum?" The doors all come ready-made
from America, and most of the wood used in building is the Kauri
pine from the North Island. One advantage, at all events, in having
wooden houses is the extreme rapidity with which they are run up,
and there are no plastered walls to need drying. For a long time we
were very uncertain where, and what, we should build on our station;
but only six weeks after we made up our minds, a house is almost
ready for us. The boards are sawn into the requisite lengths by
machinery; and all the carpentering done down here; the frame will
only require to be fitted together when it reaches its destination,
and it is a very good time of year for building, as the wool drays
are all going back empty, and we can get them to take the loads at
reduced prices; but even with this help, it is enormously expensive
to move a small house fifty miles, the last fifteen over bad roads;
it is collar-work for the poor horses all the way, Christchurch
being only nine feet above the sea-level, while our future home in
the Malvern Hills is twelve hundred.

You know we brought all our furniture out with us, and even papers