We Were Shown Into A Clean, Well-Furnished Sitting-Room, With
Mahogany Dining-Table And Chairs, And A Showy Glass Over The
Mantelpicce.
An English-looking barmaid entered.
"Would the company
like some wine or spirits?" Some one ordered sherry, of which I only
remember that it was vile trash at eight shillings a bottle.
And now the cry of "Here's the bus," brought us quickly outside again,
where we found several new arrivals also waiting for it. I had hoped,
from the name, or rather misname, of the conveyance, to gladden my eyes
with the sight of something civilized. Alas, for my disappointment!
There stood a long, tumble-to-pieces-looking waggon, not covered
in, with a plank down each side to sit upon, and a miserable narrow
plank it was. Into this vehicle were crammed a dozen people and an
innumerable host of portmanteaus, large and small, carpet-bags,
baskets, brown-paper parcels, bird-cage and inmate, &c., all of which,
as is generally the case, were packed in a manner the most calculated
to contribute the largest amount of inconvenience to the live portion
of the cargo. And to drag this grand affair into Melbourne were
harnessed thereto the most wretched-looking objects in the shape of
horses that I had ever beheld.
A slight roll tells us we are off.
"And is THIS the beautiful scenery of Australia?" was my first
melancholy reflection. Mud and swamp - swamp and mud - relieved here
and there by some few trees which looked as starved and miserable as
ourselves. The cattle we passed appeared in a wretched condition, and
the human beings on the road seemed all to belong to one family, so
truly Vandemonian was the cast of their countenances.
"The rainy season's not over," observed the driver, in an
apologetic tone. Our eyes and uneasy limbs most FEELINGLY corroborated
his statement, for as we moved along at a foot-pace, the rolling of the
omnibus, owing to the deep ruts and heavy soil, brought us into most
unpleasant contact with the various packages before-mentioned. On we
went towards Melbourne - now stopping for the unhappy horses to take
breath - then passing our pedestrian messmates, and now arriving at a
small specimen of a swamp; and whilst they (with trowsers tucked high
above the knee and boots well saturated) step, slide and tumble
manfully through it, we give a fearful roll to the left, ditto, ditto
to the right, then a regular stand-still, or perhaps, by way of
variety, are all but jolted over the animals' heads, till at length all
minor considerations of bumps and bruises are merged in the anxiety to
escape without broken bones.
"The Yarra," said the conductor. I looked straight ahead, and
innocently asked "Where?" for I could only discover a tract of marsh or
swamp, which I fancy must have resembled the fens of Lincolnshire, as
they were some years ago, before draining was introduced into
that county. Over Princes Bridge we now passed, up Swanston Street,
then into Great Bourke Street, and now we stand opposite the
Post-office - the appointed rendezvous with the walkers, who are there
awaiting us.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 6 of 104
Words from 2589 to 3117
of 53870
