Chapter IV.

Bisley Wanderers.

When the shooting was finished the team was dismissed, and broke up into twos and threes; all were free to return home when and how they pleased.

All spent a week in seeing something of London. Then some visited friends in England, others went to Ireland. Scotland and France, But before this all spent a most enjoyable evening at the New Zealanders' Club. The warmth of that welcome and the number of fellow-colonials we there met fairly surprised us. Still another pleasure awaited us all—Mr and Mrs Donnelly, of Hawke's Bay, gave a dinner in our honour at the Hyde Park Hotel. One thing that struck us was the noiseless movements and elegant waiting of the Indian servants here employed. A colonial seeing London for the first time is struck with its marvellous wealth, the immensity of the street traffic, and the splendid system by which it is regulated. There are some electric trams, but most of the passenger-carrying is done by omnibuses, accommodating 28 passengers. From these a very fine view of the streets and shops can be obtained especially from the top. In fine weather few travel inside. These 'bus horses are a surprise to strangers; in their class, two out of every three would take a prize at New Zealand shows; also the draught and private carriage horses are a show in themselves. The four-in-hand horses are truly superb. Such are seen to perfection in Hyde Park. London's great promenade, which is exceedingly gay for some hours each day. Here the great men and women of England are well represented, and magnificent dresses, especially for some days after a big race meeting, such as Ascot, may be seen.

Although these ladies' dresses and jewellery must cost hundreds and thousands of pounds, it is not altogether flattery to say that New Zealand girls can hold their own in beauty.

Two of the first places usually visited by colonials are St. Paul's and Westminster Abbey; both are disappointing in that owing to the size of the buildings not more than half the congregation can hear the preacher, unless he has an exceptionally clear utterance.

When within those sacred walls awe steals into the soul, quite apart from the divine associations of the place. You are recalling past history, you are face to face with England's mighty dead—all around are the tombs of statesmen, soldiers, poets and kings.

Westminster Abbey, or Church of St. Peter, was, according to legend, consecrated by the spirit of St. Peter himself in the year 616. The church, as we see it to-day, is the growth of five centuries; part, built by Edward the Confessor is now incorporated into the present Abbey. Here William the Conqueror was crowned; the same can be said of every King and Queen since his day. Not far from the Abbey is Whitehall Museum, once a royal palace; here Charles I. was beheaded, on a balcony facing the street; the window through which he stepped on to the scaffold, and the balcony, still remain. The exhibits in this museum are all military. Several pieces of Wellington's and Napoleon's uniforms, also carriages belonging to each, are on view. A small rifle belonging to Queen Elizabeth's time is of great interest; it is sighted and grooved on the same principle as the present-day weapon, yet the idea would seem to have been lost sight of for hundreds of years.

From the top of a 'bus we often gazed at the Bank of England. It covers eight acres, and is a strong rather than a showy building. Its wealth practically rules the money markets of the world.

Madame Tussaud's Waxworks Exhibition shows the celebrities of the world for the last 200 years. The figures are so life-like, and the dress so exact, that there is constant danger of mistaking wax figures for live visitors.

The National Art Gallery draws visi- page 8 tors from all nations. If a newcomer went to it every day for a week he would have little more than an idea of what was to be seen. The English excel in landscape pictures, but in art generally the Italians and French leave us behind.

In Regent's Park are the Zoological Gardens, where 2500 animals, if birds and fish be included, may be seen. So great is the care taken that animals from the frozen Arctic thrive as well as those from the Tropics. Over a hundred men are employed to attend to these animals.

It would be tedious to write in detail of the House of Parliament, the British Museum, the Crystal Palace, the Italian Exhibition, etc., hut a word must be said about the King's stables. They would delight all New Zealanders. As stables they seem to have reached the acme of perfection; they are so spacious. There were 130 horses in all. The eight cream-coloured ponies used on Coronation and such occasions were carefully scrutinised. The harness mounting was of 22 carat gold; that which the King ordinarily uses is of 0 carat. Except in the matter of the metal needing no polish whatever, neither the 0 carat, nor (as a matter of fact) the 22 carat, seemed much finer than the brass-mounted harness specimens of which were hanging round the harness-rooms.

The roar of the street-traffic, which was deafening, is so splendidly managed that accidents are very rare; once only did we see inconvenience caused by a slight misadventure; in turning, a traction engine locked, and in about five minutes vehicles of various kinds were jammed together waiting to pass along the blocked street.

The police are a fine body. Every man in it knows his district almost to the number of windows in every house. He has the maze of streets on his finger ends; and with the precision of a machine he manages the street traffic, and is strictly obeyed both by drivers and pedestrians.

In many of the best hotels and restaurants waiters receive no wages, and even pay the owner a premium. They are recouped by the "tips" of the visitors: work is so arranged that a different waiter does each separate piece of service required. The visitor at the hotel—even though he stay one night—for his bed and breakfast will have to pay anything between 8/ and 20/. This is all understandable, but—when he goes through the hall to make his exit, four or five waiters will be lined up with all expectancy, and all the demands of expectancy, written large on their face—"Tips." This terror is creeping into the public and Government offices, and should be ruthlessly dealt with. It may be mentioned with bated breath that tips have been found efficacious in the Customs department of Old England.

As it cannot be imagined that New Zealanders are uninterested in sheep, of course we went to the London wool sales, and learnt something from them. We should state here that there are six sales in the year, and that each one lasts about three weeks. We learnt that whether the quantity of wool sent by each grower be one bale or one hundred, every bale is opened out to the view of the buyers, and that they often complain of the way the farmer classes his wool. We were made to understand that unless an expert is employed it pays the grower better to make not more than two classes of his clip; yet, at the same time, speaking generally, two classes should be made. During the progress of a sale there awaits newcomers a scene of bewildering animation. The auctioneer's policy is to sell as many bales per hour as possible; sometimes as many as fifty buyers, and these of mixed nationalities, will be frantically shrieking at the same time the same offer. Time is indeed money to the auctioneer, and intolerant of delay, the first man to catch his eye is the lucky buyer. Of course there is a reserve below which the wool cannot be sold. The sale usually begins at four in the afternoon, and often continues until midnight.

Nearly half the wool from the colonies goes to French and German buyers; Americans can only buy certain classes, as there is said to be a duty of 5½d per lb on greasy wool going into America. The London sales are declining. Foreign buyers find it pays better to come to the colonies and buy in Melbourne and Wellington and send what they buy direct to their own manufactories. Thus they secure the wool in better condition and avoid the injurious appearances following on shipment and English handling, the latter of which is very rough.

Those interested in the welfare of the colonies get some idea of the needs of London by a visit to the Smithfield meat markets. Each market consists of what page 9 [unclear: n] only be described as acres of meat; in fact, in a walk of two solid miles there was nothing but meat. Great entities of colonial grown mutton are [unclear: td] here.

When placed down at Smith field [unclear: ef] or mutton is clean, and generally in excellent condition, but before reaching the consumer it is subject to several [unclear: ave] disadvantages, such as thawing and continuous handling—and has no chance of favourably comparing with what is grown in Great Britain. In fact, after it has got into the retailers' hands, wing to its usual damaged appearance, it is placed at such a disadvantage that most inferior Home grown meat is of[unclear: en] made to look better than colonial, This poor, tough stuff is sold for New Zealand thereby seriously injuring our industry. The price given by the whole-ale butchers is unreasonably low. But the combination of large buyers, with millions at command, have so far prevented (and it is feared will prevent) [unclear: lonial] freezing companies successfully carrying on stores to reach the consumers without the expensive medium of the middleman. Considering the consumer pays double the wholesale price, it is to be hoped that shops in the interests of colonial farmers, as well as of the English people, may yet be prosperous.

Next to the damage done the industry By the too large profits of the middleman is the uneven supply, which, if the different colonies had shops of their own could be regulated.