Monday, December 5th.–The weather cloudy, with strong gales. Lat. 35° 8″ S. Long. 160° 10″ E.

Wishing to learn as much as possible of the character and peculiarities of our rude guests, I let no day pass without remarking whatever I thought worthy of observation; and was careful in attending to every little anecdote or incident which might tend to illustrate their turn of mind. I had frequent opportunities of gratifying this curiosity, and on this day I was amused with a witticism, which is quite characteristic of these people.

Tui, whom I shall now introduce to the reader as the brother of Korra-korra, seeing me on deck this morning with my spectacles on, and looking at some birds which were flying about the ship, inquired, with an arch smile, if I could tickee tickee (see) the Brush Farm, my place of residence in New South Wales. As our distance from it at the time could not have been less than four hundred and fifty miles, this was considered an excellent joke by his countrymen, who laughed heartily at it; nor, indeed, did I think it myself a bad specimen of that sly sort of humour, in which they all seem to delight. Sallies too of the gayest mirth and pleasantry frequently break out among them, and I have never met a people who are less inclined to sullen retirement, or more disposed to social hilarity.