VII LINCOLN SCHOOL OF AGRICULTURE 239 
the mountain instead of from the bottom of a pit, 
and the small town, with its irregularly-built houses, 
is the most curious of the kind I have ever seen. 
From Westport, which is a great coal-mining district, I 
took a steamer back to Christchurch. 
After my return to Christchurch, I went one day 
to Lincoln, twelve miles by rail, to the School of 
Agriculture, an institution for young fellows who intend 
making farming their profession. Mr. Gray, the acting- 
superintendent, took me all over the building, and 
spared no trouble to show me everything that was to 
be seen — from the well-kept stalls for the horses, and 
where the cows were milked, to the dairy, where the 
separator was at work and butter being made by hand, 
where layers of tempting- looking cheeses were being 
mellowed in their drying-room ; — thence to the large 
pig-sties where the last few months of the lives of the 
poor unsuspecting inmates were made as happy as pos- 
sible in luxurious dieting of milk, and other pig luxuries 
pertaining to the making of good ham and bacon. 
Then we went to the fruit garden where the branches 
were bent to the ground with the weight of good rosy 
apples, and the blackbirds were making the most of 
their time too among them before they were stored 
away for the winter. Rows of beehives were here, with 
all the improved methods of arrangement, so that each 
pound could be taken when the cells were filled. In 
the flower garden there were masses of flowers, and a 
cosy summer-house where many a meditative pipe will 
be smoked by the young energetic Scotchman who 
has just come out to take charge of the whole in- 
stitution. On the broad well-kept lawns are tennis, 
football, and cricket grounds, where, after the day’s 
work is done, the pupils can amuse themselves. Inside 
the large handsome building itself, I had a peep into 
