Letter VII: A young colonist.--the town and its neighbourhood.


Christchurch, March 1866.
I must begin my letter this mail with a piece of domestic news, and
tell you of the appearance of your small nephew, now three weeks
old. The youth seems inclined to adapt himself to circumstances,
and to be as sturdy and independent as colonial children generally
are. All my new friends and neighbours proved most kind and
friendly, and were full of good offices. Once I happened to say
that I did not like the food as it was cooked at the boarding-house;
and the next day, and for many days after, all sorts of dainties
were sent to me, prepared by hands which were as skilful on the
piano, or with a pencil, as they were in handling a saucepan. New
books were lent to me, and I was never allowed to be without a
beautiful bouquet. One young lady used constantly to walk in to
town, some two or three miles along a hot and dusty road, laden with
flowers for me, just because she saw how thoroughly I enjoyed her
roses and carnations. Was it not good of her?

Christchurch has relapsed into the quietude, to call it by no
harsher name. The shearing is finished all over the country, and
the "squatters" (as owners of sheep-stations are called) have
returned to their stations to vegetate, or work, as their tastes and
circumstances may dictate. Very few people live in the town except
the tradespeople; the professional men prefer little villas two or
three miles off. These houses stand in grounds of their own, and