The following article by Dr. Chilton was written shortly before his death. He was one of New Zealand's most distinguished scientists. Apart from his more technical writings, which have permanently enriched zoology, he has written much (in “The City Beautiful” of which he was editor) intended to help in improving the appearance of our cities. This article contains some valuable suggestions regarding the wider adoption of gardening schemes to make railway station surroundings more pleasing to the eye.

Towards the close of the Nineteenth Century it was my good fortune to live for over four years—1895 to 1899—in the ancient and historic city of Edinburgh—dear “Auld Reekie.” Certainly there were “reeks” in abundance. If one stood on the summit of Arthur's Seat at the hour when the domestic fires were being lighted and looked down on the old town and saw the smoke issuing from the many chimney pots, it was not difficult to imagine that it was a gigantic railway yard that lay before one, with the smoke of many engines rising from the sheds. A little to the right lay Calton Hill, at the one end of Princes Street, and in front, but further away, Edinburgh Castle, rising in majestic solidity, too often half obscured by the smoky haze. Just beyond it was the Caledonian Railway Station, then comparatively new and well ordered, while at the foot of Calton Hill was Waverley Station, the centre of the North British Railways, fortunately half-hidden in the valley, for it was in all the confusion and disorder of rebuilding. Between these two stations many hundreds of trains ran every day, and from each terminus they branched off in various directions. They were all drawn by coalburning locomotives, for that was long before the days of internal combustion engines and electric motors. Edinburgh was more a University town than a manufacturing centre, but there were sufficient factories, foundries and printing works to add appreciably to the atmosphere's “dusty freight.”