notice of our friends, whom we had come to know very well, and who were very nice. It's the same old thing all the world over. . . . At 11 A. M. we passed out of the rapids, and the river became broader. At noon we came to Waunganui, a town of fourteen thousand. Here we took a train for Wellington. The train was packed, and I hate a crowd. The farming country between Waunganui and Wellington is probably as good as there is in New Zealand, which isn't saying much. Every three or four miles we saw a field of oats or turnips. In between, we saw sheep in hilly pastures. There are more sheep here than I ever dreamed of; and I doubt if there is a black sheep in New Zealand: anyway, I haven't seen one. . . . On the train was a father who could take care of a baby, but the mother was perfectly helpless with it. . . . The dining-car on the train is run by the government, and no doubt the waiters take civil-service examinations. When we reached the dining-car there was almost nothing left, owing to the crowd, but the waiter said he could get us a chop. Here, mutton chops are as common as bacon or ham in the United States. . . . At 7:20 P. M. we arrived in Wellington, after passing through a number of tunnels, and stopping at many seaside resorts. We went to the Grand Hotel, the best we have encountered since leaving San Francisco. Early tomorrow we shall call on Thos. Cook & Son, tourist agents, and see what they desire us to do next.
