I assert, as an eye-witness, that most of the hands on the Eureka came
to their work, and worked as usual.
Whilst having a 'blow,' we would talk over again about the monster meeting
of yesterday, thus spinning a yarn in the usual colonial style.
The general impression was, that as soon as government knew in Melbourne
the real state of the excited feelings of the diggers, the licence-hunt
would be put a stop to.
Towards ten o'clock was my hour for a working-man's breakfast.
I used to retire to my tent from the heat of the mid-day, and on that same
Thursday I set about, at once, to end my letter to Mr. Archer,
because I was anxious to forward it immediately to Melbourne.
Good reader, I copy now, word for word, the scrawl then penned,
in great haste and excitement.
Thursday, November 30th, 1854.
Just on my preparing to go and post this letter, we are worried by the usual
Irish cry, to run to Gravel-pits. The traps are out for licences,
and playing hell with the diggers. If that be the case, I am not inclined
to give half-a-crown for the whole fixtures at the Camp.
I must go and see 'what's up.
Always your affectionate,
(Signed) CARBONI RAFFAELLO.
(To) W. H. ARCHER, Esq., Acting Registrar-General, Melbourne.
