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The Calamity Seen from a Distance.

"Viewed from the hotel the scene was a very grand one. The roar of the slips at once attracted attention, and those who went to look saw, as it appeared to them, the whole summit of the mountain travelling down the slope, throwing up the lighter soil in the air to a tremendous height. 'It looked like a wall of earth,' said one of the spectators to me, 'surrounded by smoke, and we thought the mountain had broken into eruption—like Mount Tarawera. We were unable, owing to the road being washed away, to go round to ascertain what had become of the inmates of Annandale, but we thought they had all perished, as, when we looked again, not a trace of the house, buildings, or anything was visible, except the burning wreck. All that we could see was the horrid, black-looking scar down the whole face of the mountain, extending from top to bottom, and the black-looking soil heaped up and covering the place where the well-known homestead of Annandale once stood.' A description of the homestead is then given which is so correct that we are tempted to add it to the other quotations. …

"Annandale was beautifully situated in the south-west corner of the bay, just under a big ravine, that in summer poured a trickling stream of water through the culvert already mentioned into the sea. Quite a small forest of blue gums, stout and strong, grew between the house and the hill. Lately the grounds had been tended with great care, and were looking beautiful. Entrance was gained from the main road by a carriage drive, which wound a sinuous line up to the house through ornamental trees, shrubs, and flowers, past a lawn of lovely sward, on which many a game of tennis has given health and pleasure to the inmates and to the many friends who have shared their hospitality. A holly fence rose above a steep embankment page 300on the Holmes' Bay road, from which access was gained to the house in front, facing the sea, by a flight of steps leading to an avenue of pear and walnut trees. The house was a two-storey one, with dormer windows, verandah, and bay windows. It was the 'beau ideal' of a peaceful retreat, and surrounded by its fine trees looked very picturesque. Behind the house, nearer the hill, were the out-houses where the men slept, the blacksmith's and carpenter's shops, with all tools necessary for farm, smithy, and carpentry work, a model fowl house, piggery, etc. About and around were the dogs' kennels, to the south the stable, cast of which was a large barn (or wool-shed), in which were stored grass-seed, wool, sheep-skins, etc. The sheep-dip adjoined the main road, and between it and the barn lay all the numerous pens necessary on a large sheep station. It was to all these premises that the 'lane' led from the main road, and it was right under the ravine that all these buildings lay."

We may fittingly finish this chapter by adding one more quotation—a little poem written by our old friend, Miss Buckley, sister of Mr. E. C. Buckley, as a tribute to the lost home, where she had spent many happy weeks. She had, a few months before the slip, settled down to teach music in the bay, and owing to this circumstance, the old Annandale piano was saved from the general wreck. Having a newer one that we brought out from Home, we lent Miss Buckley the other for her rooms in Mrs. Preece's house, where she boarded and gave her lessons. Afterwards, when settled in our now home, we got the old piano back again like the rest of the old furniture. Miss Buckley left the bay soon after the landslip, and became a Deaconess sister in Melbourne, where she lived and worked for years as "Sister Mary." Sister Mary is now—1900—Sister Superior in "The Mission of the Good Shepherd," Church of England Mission House, Auckland.