f the vehicle,
which is most disagreeable; but rough and rude as they are, they deserve
to be looked upon with respect as the pioneers of civilization. All
over America, Australia, and now New Zealand, the moment half-a-dozen
passengers are forthcoming, that moment the enterprising firm starts
a coach, and the vehicle runs until it is ousted by a railway. All
previous tracks which I had journeyed over seemed smooth turnpike roads,
compared to that terrible tussocky track which led to Dunedin.

But that bright little town was reached at last, the hotel welcomed us,
tired and bruised travellers that we were, and next evening we started
in the _Geelong_ for Port Lyttleton. This little coasting steamer seemed
to touch at every hamlet along the coast, and after each pause I had
to begin afresh my agonies of sea-sickness. There was no such thing
as getting one's sea-legs; for we were seldom more than a few hours
outside, and had no chance of getting used to the horrible motion.
Timaru was reached next day, but we had suffered so frightfully during
the night from a chopping sea and an open roadstead, that we went on
shore, and entrusted ourselves once more to the old coach. It seemed
better to endure the miseries we knew of, than to make experiments in
wretchedness. So we went through the old jolting and jumbling until we
were dropped at an accommodation house, fifteen miles from Christchurch,
where we slept that night, and at daylight despatched a messenger to the
next station for our own horses. He had only thirty-five miles to ride,
and about mid-day we started to meet him on hired horses, which we were
very glad to exchange for better nags a stage further on.

And so we rode quietly home in the gloaming, winding up the lovely,
tranquil valley, at whose head stood our own snug little homestead. At
first we were so glad to be safely at hone again that we scarcely gave
a thought to our fruitless enterprise; but as our bruised bodies became
rested and restored, our hearts began to ache when we thought of the
money we had so rashly flung away in BUYING A RUN.

Chapter VIII: Looking for a congregation.

It is to be hoped and expected that such a good understanding has been
established between my readers and myself by this time, that they will
not find the general title of these papers unsuitable to the heading
of this particular chapter. Indeed, I may truly say, that, looking back
upon the many happy memories of my thre