Names and Trains.

The number of stations in New Zealand bearing Maori names makes the lot of the booking clerk rather trying until he gets to know his New Zealand thoroughly. Recently a Maori lady walked up to the ticket window at Taumarunui and said to the bright-faced eager cadet, “Ticket for Hinemoa, please.” The young fellow, fresh from the training school and new to the locality, was fairly stumped, and, after a lightning dart through the “Locality Index,” owned up.

“Where's Hinemoa?” he said.

“This Hinemoa,” smilingly replied the wife of Hori, “this piccaninny, sitting right over here on this suit-case.”