Problems of the Pacific 



349 



the government of New Zealand. The 

 children are brought down from the 

 back country into the city to see the 

 ocean harbor and the steamships and 

 the wharves of the great metropolis, and 

 all the sights of a busy city. The gov- 

 ernment arranged another train as large, 

 which rolled out of Wellington, taking 

 the city children up into the mountains 

 to see the trees and look at the robin, 

 and to hear the crow which there sings 

 the sweetest notes. They were carried 

 out at rates so low that children fifteen 

 years old were carried a hundred miles 

 and back for fifty cents. They carry 

 children to school in New Zealand on 

 these roads. 



Of course there is no profit in doing 

 this business at these rates, but I think 

 the people of New Zealand will see their 

 profit in the health of the future fathers 

 and mothers and in the intelligence of 

 their future citizens ; and so you see a 

 democracy can make money by losing 

 it. 



L,et us make a rapid trip to the scene 

 of some of these land operations. There - 

 could be nothing more interesting than 

 that. We will go to one of the places 

 where the government has purchased 

 one of the great estates by condemna- 

 tion, compulsion being ordinarily unnec- 

 essary. The owners are usually willing 

 to sell. The owner may be of an ad- 

 vanced age, and he is easily persuaded 

 that his lot would be much pleasanter 

 if he should spend his declining days in 

 cutting coupons and living in clover. 

 He never really does live in clover, you 

 know, but it sounds well. 



At Argyle the government had to 

 condemn an estate. They put a woman 

 on a farm of thirty acres. She tells of 

 the passion for land that she had, that 

 had always run in her family. ' ' Why, ' ' 

 she said, " the dirt runs in our blood." 

 We looked at her closely, and, seeing 

 the clear, strong face, we thought she 

 was right. 



Not far from her is a farmer. He 



tells how he used to have to work, and 

 take the wages that he was offered. 

 "I go outside to work now only when 

 I have nothing to do upon my land. I 

 go on my horse, and there are potatoes 

 enough in that field to buy the land." 



So one of the poorest classes, known 

 as the "cropper," having no capital of 

 his own, compelled to pay his rent by 

 giving an extortionate share of his pro- 

 duce, said: " This rent now under the 

 government is a very different thing 

 from what it was under the former pro- 

 prietors. And do you know why, sir ? 

 The reason is this" — and, indeed, that is 

 the secret — ' ' the reason is that the peo- 

 ple want to make little profit out of the 

 people." 



In the old days this great estate, from 

 the river on the south to the forest on 

 the north, as far as the eye could see, 

 was owned by one man. The govern- 

 ment has taken possession of the land, 

 and now, where there was only one man, 

 there is a population of two thousand 

 people. Now you hear the school bell 

 and the church bell, and the people by 

 their own industry are becoming the 

 proprietors of the land. 



And under this system of democratic 

 administration the produce of this land 

 is fourteen times what it was under the 

 monopolists. There is fourteen times as 

 much wealth in wheat and produce as 

 under the old proprietors, to say nothing 

 of the infinitely greater wealth of home 

 and happiness and life. 



There was one man, who was a fine 

 type of a worthy Scotchman. He tells 

 of how the former owner was making a 

 tour of the estate with a friend from 

 England. He was feeling pretty good 

 and desirous of showing off, no doubt. 

 He said, "Well, Bruce, wouldn't you 

 like to have a piece of this land ? ' ' 

 "Yes, sir; I would, sir." " That is as 

 near as you will ever get to it, Bruce," 

 responded the rich man. Today we find 

 Bruce on that identical spot, the owner 

 of one hundred and fifty acres. We find 



