(1, p. 4.)

To give the reader, who may be unacquainted with New Zea-
land bush life, some idea of the scene, allow me to remark, that my cottage, like many others of a like nature, was one of no very imposing appearance. It was built partly of slabs and partly necho leaves,∗ and, though no way air-tight, yet the surrounding lofty bush sheltered it from the uncomfortable winds which often prevail here, and being water-tight over head by a good thick cover of necho leaves, it served as a good shelter in the rough mode of beginning a bush life. This shelter was about 12 ft. by 14 ft., the ridge of the roof about 10 ft. high, having the door and one small window, about 15 inches square, in the gable end looking toward the west. To the right of the cottage, and about five or six paces forward from the door, stood the pine referred to, so that about twelve o’clock the shadow of the tree completely covered the house; this served as a sort of hour-gauge. A pig-sty, to which reference is made elsewhere, stood against the root of the pine-tree. Immediately behind my cottage, as if a line drawn from the pine-tree passing through the cottage from the right corner looking west to the right corner looking east, at one time stood a large rata-tree, but had been for some time laid low, lying along eastward, while its roots, carrying with them the clay in which they were enveloped, stood up like a clay wall about fifteen feet high. This is the rata referred to as tossing up its heels. Many, as they passed by, sometimes jokingly remarked of the root,—“See, there’s a good side-wall of a house; I wonder why you did not build your house there.” Such was the scene of the Poem.