men's huts, dip, etc., are near each other. It is the busiest
season of the year, and no time could be spared to prepare for us;
we therefore contented ourselves with what was described to me as
ordinary station fare, and I must tell you what they gave us: first,
a tureen of real mutton-broth, not hot water and chopped parsley,
but excel-lent thick soup, with plenty of barley and meat in it;
this had much the same effect on our appetites as the famous treacle
and brimstone before breakfast in "Nicholas Nickleby," so that we
were only able to manage a few little sheeps' tongues, slightly
pickled; and very nice _they_ were; then we finished with a
Devonshire junket, with clotted cream _a discretion_. Do you think
we were much to be pitied?

After this repast we were obliged to rest a little before we set out
for the wool-shed, which has only been lately finished, and has all
the newest improvements. At first I am "free to confess" that I did
not like either its sounds or sights; the other two ladies turned
very pale, but I was determined to make myself bear it, and after a
moment or two I found it quite possible to proceed with Mr. L---
round the "floor." There were about twenty-five shearers at work,
and everything seemed to be very systematically and well arranged.
Each shearer has a trap-door close to him, out of which he pushes
his sheep as soon as the fleece is off, and there are little pens
outside, so that the manager can notice whether the poor animal has
been too much cut with the shears, or badly shorn in any other
respect, and can tell exactly which shearer is to blame. Before
this plan was adopted it was hopeless to try to find out who was the
delinquent, for no one would acknowledge to the least snip. A good
shearer can take off 120 fleeces in a day, but the average is about
80 to each man. They get one pound per hundred, and are found in