Now I come to the last section of my chapter, the use of motors for farming and estate work. And here one must go from the point of view of convenience to that of economic and practical use. Whether the rates charged by railways to-day are justifiable, having regard to the capital of those railways, or whether they are excessive with regard to the low rates charged on competitive foreign produce, the cheaper and swifter locomotion becomes, the better must it be for the British farmer; and incidentally I must strongly advocate some form of co-operation where it is possible. At Tunbridge Wells a system has been started, whereby the farmers of the district, tired and no wonder of the vagaries of the South-Eastern and Chatham, have organised a motor service to take their goods direct to Covent Garden and other markets in London. And just think for one moment of the advantages gained. There is no handling from the farmer's cart into the truck, with all its attendant risks to perishable articles; and there is no handling at the London terminus, with the risk of crushing in the carrier's or railway company's van. The motor-car takes the fruit, or whatever produce is desired, to the market, and thus there are two handlings as against four handlings. Not only this, but the vehicle can return from London, or the town you may chance to be near, with nitrate of potash, bone meal, linseed cake, or whatever you are buying from the outside for consumption or distribution on your farm; and as every merchant in the world will tell you, the secret of paying freight is that the vehicle or ship should be full both ways. What an advantage it would be to London, and what a saving would result, if you could have fresh eggs gathered from five to seven in the morning and delivered to you at your door at eight or nine o'clock for breakfast! Nowadays only milk and cat's-meat are taken to your house, both moderately fresh, but the London egg is neither moderate in price nor is it generally new-laid. The cry of 'cat's m-e-e-a-a-at!' may bring but few householders of the better class to the door, but we may live to hear a long-drawn-out cry of 'e-g-g-s!' which will tempt every housekeeper
