Impressions of Persons and Places.

Filial devotion and the necessity for finding some means of passing the time prompt me to-day to continue my narrative. My last letter told you all about our stay in Sydney, which you may be sure I was very glad came to an end so quickly. There was much to interest us, of course. The way some of the carpet-bag politicians who infest that portion of your dominions smooged round for presents was the funniest thing I can remember; in fact, I sometimes wake up in the night to laugh at the efforts made by one portly individual to impress your daughter-in-law with a sense of his importance. But, father, I remembered your sage counsel, and preserved an equable, and, I trust, suave demeanour during all these trials. The result must be for the good of the Empire. But a cold shudder seizes me sometimes now, and I am full of strange misgivings at the prospects of landing in New Zealand. My stock is getting low, and as I fear that some of these windy Maorilanders will cut the painter unless I do something for them, it will be necessary for me to replenish the gift boxes immediately on arrival. Luckily, my pocket-money has not suffered any serious drain. I have had free lunches ever since leaving home, and your loyal subjects resent my suggestion of paying for the liquor. From what I can hear, it will be the same in New Zealand, but the demand for presents will be tremendous. While in Melbourne we met Joseph of Awarua, sometimes known as Joe of the Waxed Mo. A very pushful Joe, this, indeed; something like our orchid-growing friend from Birmingham. Well, Joe gave me a list of those who "must receive something." It is of great length—there is Dick, Tom Wilford, Andrew Collins, Aitken, Witheford, George Fisher, Councillor McGill, Jack Hutcheson, Tom Duncan, Jerry Twomey, Tommy Taylor, the "City Engineer," and scores of others. It will, of course, be a severe strain on my resources to give something to each and every one, but by telling a few tales and trusting in Providence, I hope to pull through in a solvent condition. I will write you again after we have had a look at the blessed place to which I am going in much tribulation and warm socks, because it is very wintry. I am obliged to take this precaution, as Royalty with a cold in its head might not evoke that reverence which should be looked for among the islanders.

Mind you look after the kids, and don't forget to cable the result of the Derby.

This is all right. Everything has gone off splendidly, including the rockets and that job lot of watch chains from Chicago. My welcome in New Zealand has been akin to that accorded Cæsar by the Romans—cheering crowds, arches, fireworks, streamers, bands and politicians have prevailed everywhere. Even Cuba Street rose to the occasion, and entered into the proceedings as one shop—thanks to the liberal supply of oil poured on agitated waters by Johnny Holmes, who is one of the best. He seems to know just about as much as most of your subjects, and has a taste in cigars which does him credit. From the moment of our arrival in Auckland Dick seized hold of things in two large hands, and has conducted himself with a loyalty and devotion which can only be repaid by allowing him to add V.C. to the P.C. he already appends to his signature. The light honourable and learned digger permitted no dog to bark when he spoke, and were it not that he breaks forth with orations of an hour's duration on the slightest provocation, I would be almost sorry to part from him. As it is, he is rather overpowering to one of my weak nerves. If anyone makes a suggestion, Richard simply demands to know, "Who's Boss here?"—and the free and independent elector meekly subsides; he seems to have the whole community up his sleeve.

I have been particularly struck while in Wellington with the extraordinary manner in which the wind blows—always round the corner; in fact it has been blowing ever since we came here. Of course I never mention the fact that it is disagreeable, lest your loyal subjects should think I was casting an unworthy slur upon the place; but 1 can mention it to you, of course, in strict confidence. Yesterday morning Ranfurly and myself got up before daybreak to go for a bike ride as far as Ngahauranga and have a bathe in the creek. It was blowing hard enough to take your hair off, but we started. "Pretty windy," T remarked. "Think so?" replied his Ex., as he plugged along into the teeth of it. I said no more till we reached Kaiwarra. "Pretty road!" I ventured. "Think so?" panted Ranfurly. Anyhow I could stand it no longer, and suggested turning back, but I'm blest if it wasn't a head wind home! Luckily, your Majesty's rep keeps pretty good liquid on the premises, and we soon recovered. But the state of that road settled the City Engineer's chance of a medal.