THE ENGLISH AGRICULTURAL LABOURER IN NEW ZEALAND.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XIV, Issue 169, 17 July 1879, Page 4

THE ENGLISH AGRICULTURAL LABOURER IN NEW ZEALAND.

A correspondent writes from Nelsoo, New Zealand, to-tbe Daily News : — Nelson is a highly picturesque region, dotted over with every variety of wooden house*. Tbere is little pretention to order anywhere, aod enterprise appears to be unknown. Persona in easy circumstances own or occupy tbe numberless pretty villas all along tbe mountain aide and valleys at tbeir feet, aod sundry traders occupying shops in rough, unfinished rtreets minister to their wants. The emigration barracks occupy a good site in tbe Waimea Boad, and eileotly testify as to the need of the town and district for mere workers. Poverty appears to be unknown, und tbe state of the labour market may be further inferred from tbe fact tbat a lot of fellows at work carting mould, &c, and reoeiviog 8s per day of eight boors, actually struck the other day for another ls. lam afraid tbeir demand bnd to be gratified. Tbe utter unreasonableness of such extottion is at ooce seen wben tbe price of provisions is remembered. Bread is tbe same price as in England, sugar only a trifle dearer; butter lOd per pound; tea and coffee a shade -. cheaper tban at borne; meat half-price or less. For instance, I went with my farmer friend to tbe butcher's shop tbe otber day, and he paid 43 6J for a fine leg aod loio of mutton, weighing about I4lbs. I saws some splendid beef io the sbop, and oo inquiry I found tbe price of tbe best cuts was 6 J per pound. Wishing to see tbe English agriculturist at boose in the country of his adoption, I accepted an invitation to spend an invitation at a " buab. " farm some twenty miles dißtant from Nelson City. A railway of a very elementary character took me about seventeen . miles- of tbe distance, and the good farmer conveyed me the remaining three miles in bis primitive vehicle I wish 1 could give a fair decriplion 6f this romantio region. I fooid my friend's borne to consist of a four-roocred abanty, situated in a valley surrounded with lofty bills. Nothing could be more intensely lovely. His farm consisted of about a thousand acres - and he had only just entered upon it. The immense hills all around formed part of his domain, and tbere, nibbling away at tbe abort greae and more tban half hidden among the thick underwood, furze, ferns, &c„ were his sheep aod cows. After a short rest we mounted a couple of smalL horses, and proceeded to look over the estate. Along narrow tracks we wended our way ov.r hills and ▼alleys, , through romantic rifts and trickling streams. Occasionally the thick busb altogether shut out tbe sun's. rays for a quarter of an hour or more. I found myself repeatedly asking tbe question, "Why do not some of those martyrs to dyspepsia and nervous affections in England just take their carpet bags in band, aud step on board tbe Cozco, and in a couple of ,» mouths time find themselves in some such splendid sanitarium as this ? " After an bout's ride we come upon a j neighbour ipg farm house of a much . better <: character tban my friend's. Here we pulled up and paid a visit to the jor-chard. , Happily the wild cherries were just ripe, although the cultivated •j ones were pretty well over. Nothing could excess the lavish luxuriance of the crop. Scores of trcea were laden • with ths delicious frnit. Every farm appears to have a number of these wild cherry trees — a fruit closely resembling tbe English " May Duke," only a «li_;htly bitter smack. For a Opoking, purposes they are superior to tbe ! English cherries* Tbey are so plentiful as to be a drug iv tbe market. Indeed they do cot pay to gather* and in t-}is grohard there will; pgobably be several hundred pounds weight left on t'<6 trees to spoil. I saw a fine tree of c^tored cherries— the English "black-heart"—-only half picked, the, boughs being »till laden with dried up fruit. It if simply, marvellous how lavish n^turp seems in the bestowment of her ; ,f UtS{ in this bright and sunny region. . . Bat the English labourer amid it all, how fared he? Well^ there was one not a „ hundred yards off mowing hay. I soon interviewed him, and found his position very independent. He had his own home and a small farm, a cow or two, n few sheep, and a few acres of . lanfL There was ; plenty of food all around for bis live stock. When be wanted money he could a! ways get a .few days work at ooe or other of the 'farm's, and altogether the man seemed about as free from care aod anxiety as the sheep and cows around him. I am struck witb one thing in connection with colonial farmers — the appearance, of being over-worked and dreadfully poor. It is the exception to find one wbo woold compare in appearance, at least of general ease of circumstances, with the average English farmer. Tbeir hard, horny, and shapeless fists betoken manual labor, sach as the Englishman is a total stranger to. And it is the same witb the female portion of the household. The dearnese aqd scarcity of labour " "M* 6 .Ji* necessary tp dispense with as much as possible of it, and so milking, and butter-making, and often far worse work fall to the share of wife and daughters. At the farm in question the mother and one daughter dii all the domestio farm work— that is, attended to the cow-yard, dairy, md I knqw not what besides. There was no • servant abont the house. I asked tbe good lady if she wu not dull in sucb an oat bt the world sorfc of place. "Pall I" she replied, with an expree-

sion of surprise that such a question should be asked ; " I haven't time even to think of such a thing." Yet she had moved in good society et home, and known most of the comforts of English life. The ride by rail from Nelson to this bush region revealed a charming succession of s.emiogly prosperous farm homesteads. Tbe town of Richmond, about midway, appeared to be specially prosperous. Tbe farms bad more of an English finish about tbem. I should imagine tbe bappy owne.B had reached tbat stage of success when it becomes possible to indulge io the luxury of foreign help Here it is that tbe English farm laborer Bods bis opening. Sons of well-to-do farmers learn, among otber things, 8t the capital schools to which they are sent, to despise field wotk. None of the exhausting*moil for them ! So amid groaning of spirit over youthful degeoe acy, the old farmer haß to article bis boy to some lawyer, or architect, or apprentice him to the local grocer, and hire laborers to till bis fields. The young ladies also learn a thing or two at the fashionable city ♦• College," and the dairy soon comes to know tbem no more. Hence the demand for dairymaids, making the wages ior such work higher than that of an educated governess. I suppose New Z.aland would gladly absorb a thousand English dairy-girls to-morrow, giviog them thirty or forty pounds a year each, and their board and lodging. I mentioned tbat unskilled laborers at Nelson had struck for an additional shilling per day, making 9s for eight hours. They have now got it, and more men at the Batne rate are urgently required.