Poor Mrs. H. Green is still feeling very miserable; she manages to get about and that is all. Her eldest daughter, Ethel, who is just sixteen, is getting on so well at school. She is by far the best reader, reading quite fluently, and writes very well. She is very staid, and we think she might possibly act as school-mistress in the future. Her brother Alfred, two years older, has perseveringly stuck to his reading. He can hardly master even short words. Still, he is getting on, especially in writing and arithmetic. He is a very clean, neat and orderly lad, and has greatly brightened in appearance since he began coming to school. The elder girls will not do as well as the younger, who will soon outpace them. The former have lately been learning to write letters. Up till now two or three women and Repetto have written for the whole colony.

[Illustration: A GROUP OF ALL THE MEN]

Saturday, April 20.—We have been thinking with much satisfaction that our letters taken by the Grey-hound will probably be received in England to-day. Since she left a ship has not so much as been seen.

This has been an afternoon of knocks at the door. First, Repetto's, who came to replace the tin round the pipe on the roof, but it beginning to rain he helped instead to put together a churn. We have started making butter. Our next visitor was little Willie Repetto, who came for thyme and parsley. Next came Rebekah to borrow the boot-brushes and blacking for her brother, a weekly request; then Ned Green for matches for his grandmother. He was followed by Sophy who wanted medicine for her mother, and she by Arthur Rogers for leeks for his mother's soup. Lastly, came Rebekah again with Mabel for nails for nailing birds' skins on their house wall to dry them. This morning there was a request for baking-powder, and Harry Swain brought a pair of horns for a birthday offering. Many days are like this, and our house often resembles a shop.

It was Mary Repetto's birthday this week. I made her a pretty light-blue pinafore. She was very pleased with it, and her mother so much so, that Mary was sent with a live fowl as a return offering, but we did not accept it, as we want them to learn we do not wish to be repaid for presents.

Sunday, April 21.—We have been having good attendances in church lately. The men are again attending well, and two new-comers have started. On Sunday evenings, there being no service, we read aloud. Graham begins, and just now is reading Religions of the World. Then I read; my present book is called Holiness of Life. I have just been preparing a lesson for the women. I find Ryle's Expositions of the Gospels a great help, they are so simple and practical.

CHAPTER XX

Wednesday, April 24.—We have at last made the expedition to the Ponds. On Monday evening Henry Green sent down word that he was starting early next morning. So on Tuesday we rose at five, and two hours later Graham and I set off ahead. We were glad to get a start so as to ensure a rest before the others came up. We went over the common and down to and along Big Beach. After walking over a sandy stretch there, we climbed up the side of the mountain on to a narrow path and there awaited them. Will Swain came hurrying up looking very hot, he thought we had got down too low. Soon there joined us Henry Green, who was the guide, Rebekah, Ethel, and Lily and Ruth Swain. We then followed the narrow and ascending path across Plantation Gulch, where on the left was a yawning precipice.

[Illustration: THE PATH OF PLANTATION GULCH]

Several halts were called, during which we picked and ate berries. It was a long and stiff climb. Towards the top the grass got longer and we had often to clamber under the branches of trees, of which there were scarcely any lower down. When we reached the top the path led up a stony gulch, from which there was a beautiful view up a valley. Then we had to climb and pass along the steep side of a hill. After this we were on flatter ground. It was very misty and the scenery reminded me much of the moors of Scotland. We saw many young mollyhawks sitting near their nests and showing white in the undergrowth. We now walked over more level ground, along what Henry called a road but I should hardly call a trail. Then again over very uneven ground and through high ferns. By eleven we were at First Lagoon Gulch, which resembled the dry bed of a wide and deep river. There we had a light lunch. In about twenty minutes we started again. Our course lay up a steep hill and over much the same sort of ground as before. At noon we were above the ponds. It now came on to rain hard. We tried to shelter under the edge of the cliff overhanging them, but by the time the rain ceased the girls were wet through. There was a thick mist and we could not even see the ponds, of which there are three, and which lay far below. After some deliberation we decided not to descend to them, and turned our steps homeward. We returned at a good rate, the girls flying in front of us. Will Swain took his own way back. With a thick mist hanging all round it would have been impossible to find the way without a guide. At intervals we stopped to wring the wet out of our skirts. I was thankful when we got to the gulch where we had to descend; though the wind was there blowing gales. We got down the first part of the mountain very quickly, but only by frequently sitting down on the long wet grass to slip down steep pitches. When we got to Plantation Gulch we found a fire and tea awaiting us—the work of Will Swain and the girls. Now we knew why they had hurried on. It was excellent and most refreshing. We were home by three. The next day Rebekah came to wash our muddy clothes. She had made dreadful rents in her skirt, and as she has no idea of mending beyond patching I have darned them for her.