letter I brought from Glasgow to Dr. Gardner, on North-terrace, and I

often went to Chalmers Church with the friends who were so kind to me on the voyage. One of the gentlemen took a leading part in the singing, and I went with his wife and family. All of those five brothers mentioned went there, and many others who came in what we called "our ship." On more than one occasion the master and mistress took me and left me at the Manse the night before a tea-meeting so that I could help. My work was always done at the end of the week, and I gladly helped the others, answering the door, bell, or otherwise, and amongst ourselves we had merriment in the home-time. One of the housemaids was married, and I got another of my fellow-passengers to come to Sunnyside. I knew by that time that some treaty was in hand to obtain the earliest passage for my people in the first ship that would come with assisted passengers. I began to be busy in preparation to meet my relatives. The time would be coming soon when I would want to go away, and the thought way disagreeable to me. I did leave Sunnyside, but went back years afterwards. One Saturday afternoon I was in attendance, and I was told to bring in the decanter and cake to the library. There were two or three men there looking so weary and dusty. I learned while in the room that one of the men was John Macdouall Stuart, the explorer. I hardly knew then what exploring meant. At any rate those men looked broken down, but the master was so pleased to see them.

I had a letter to say that my people were coming by a ship name the Art Union when there were the number required. I cheered up, for although I had plenty of everything and friends included, when I saw other girls' eyes fairly shine when they talked about home, I hoped to begin life afresh and to forget about the past. I looked forward not the least discouraged. When I thought of what a sea of water divided us, I tried to be practical. I came to this distant land in the hope that they might better their fortunes and that happiness would be ours. But I must soon turn out of the home where I had been sheltered and happy, and where I led a new life in this new land which was still strange to me. Anyone who lived in the full safety of family ties could not understand the dread I had to leave Sunnyside. In all the years past I could yield to the wishes of others, I had so far cared but little for my own preference. Now I must decide for myself what I ought to do.

Time passed on. The young master went for a long visit to his young married sister at Port Augusta. He brought back a good sized kangaroo. He asked if I was at Sunnyside yet, and being told I was he wished the man to take the kangaroo out of the hamper and let him loose in the laundry. It was late, and I did not know anything of this. But the young master was so used to putting his odds and ends in there that he thought I would not mind. I went in the morning and opened the door, and when I did so this kangaroo made one bound for the opening. I had never seen one, even in a picture before. The sudden spring it made for the door and the length of its tail frightened me, and I was insensible with terror. I ran shrieking to the house, and the kangaroo rushed through the vines down the gully. All the bedroom windows were thrown open, and everyone had seen "him." I leave anyone to guess what I thought I had seen. They had some trouble to find the kangaroo, but it was not put in the laundry again.

On looking back from now I intend to say a few words to young serving maids. If any of the incidents which happened to me in my early life also happen to you, the fact that I got through them may convey some courage to you. I think you will see that pleasure is possible in life as a domestic servant. Only let our needs be natural, and let us lead a life without vain, empty show, not trying to appear richer than we really are, or to spend all our money on dress and amusements. I noticed the difference between this colony and Scotland. The pleasant evenings we passed would not be understood now. Pleasure with unrest has led and will lead our young girls to spend money they cannot afford to make a show. How did they manage before there were so many clubs and the so-called friendly societies? They all go to the club now, and the home is too dull. The hearth is solitary. Men and women are spoiled for home life. Many would have us believe how good it is to be seen smiling and talking on some platform, and to care no longer for home in the old sense of the word. In the rush for and the love of excitement very heavy demands are made on the endurance of the working woman. Perhaps I do not see the humorous side of life, but that no doubt is because it has been all so real to me.

I often went to the coachman's house to see his wife and children, and more so when the carriage was out late. She was a nice, pleasant woman, and there were some pretty little children. We often laughed about the man with the kilts. My shipmate, Mary, the cook, was sought for in marriage by the baker of the ship. I was her bridesmaid. They had the goodwill of everyone. I sorely missed her. She was older than I, and so bright, and we went out a lot together. The man went to work at his trade at Unley, and I went to see them at Goodwood in their little home. Goodwood and Unley were then in their littleness. There were but few houses here and there, and no tramcars. How changed all is! One of the housemaids had her home in Glen Osmond, and kindly took me to see her parents and brothers and sisters. What pleasure they all gave me, and they wished to make me glad, because I was a lone girl, so far from all I knew. My fellow-servant belonged to the Anglican Church in the Glen. I went with her sometimes. Our lady mistress gave a tray in aid of something for the church, and had suitable provisions sent there. Then she graciously allowed the housemaid and myself to attend, as she could not go herself. The retention of the memory of those days is easy, seeing that only the other day I saw my helper at that tea-tray looking so well. She has been a happy wife for many years. Many others with whom I got acquainted at that time, and who were well satisfied with being house servants, could be named to-day.

Letters came to say that my people were on the way out. I got restless and ill at ease, anxious to make some household arrangement for them. I thought Glen Osmond and the hills were beautiful, but I knew that they could not come there to live. I could get an afternoon to visit town now and then. I could have done so more often than I did if I had cared to. I came to town one afternoon, and went to the home in King William-street to learn about my ship friends. While I was speaking to the matron a gentleman came to ask if she knew of a young girl who would do for a house of business at No. 10, Rundle-street, in the city. She asked me if I knew of anyone. Impulsively I offered myself, as it would mean that I would be in town to look out for some place for my relatives when they landed. The gentleman, too, spoke with such a Scotch accent. As it would all be a possible help, there seemed to be nothing to do but to accept the offer, although anguish and indecision was there also.

MY FATHER AND BROTHER ARRIVE.

So I came to Rundle-street, No. 10. It was a butcher's shop then. My employer had been the shopman, and had bought the business from his employers, who had lived on the premises. Being a bachelor, he, too, lived there, and my duties were to attend to his needs and to those of his shopman, and some youths who slept on the premises, and to prepare plain meals for them. It was odd to me at first, for everything was upstairs, except the dining-room. The rooms were plainly furnished, and I had a lot of time to go out and in. There was no one to say an unkind word to me. My master had some brothers in a different business. They came frequently, and were so good to me that I claim them as friends to this day and will while I live.

I had the hope that I would live with my father and brother when they arrived. I understood my own intentions, but what would I have done then if I had thought that men could be so cruel--cruel as I find what the spirit of bitter cruelty is now. All the world seemed to me so true then. Although I was thousands of miles from every one who knows me or cares for me, all the time I felt so guarded and so happy in my efforts, and I had everything necessary for a decent and comfortable existence. The lady from Sunnyside would come out in her carriage and see how I was getting along, and some of my fellow-servants would come and see me. We could go up to a room and look out into Rundle-street. I was not at all lonely. And as the time went on, how I watched for that ship to come. It was expected to arrive about the middle of August, and not in hot weather like we had.

At last it was nearly due. I had engaged a house for them. It was small, and I had only taken it for a time. I had some of my shipmates to help me fix it up. I had to pay two weeks' rent before they landed, awaiting the arrival of the Art Union. I was there one morning, but the ship was a long way out in the bay. There being no railway from the Port, I walked along with my basket full of all sorts of things for them. It was so rough that no one would go out to where the ship was anchored, except the health officers. They went, and I waited until they came back, to learn if all was well on board. In the afternoon someone came with a boat, and told me if I did not think it too rough he would take me to the ship. It being decided that no one should be landed till the next day, I went out in the boat, and I never had such a rough time on the sea. When the boat got alongside the big ship it banged against the side and bounded out again ever so many times. I looked up and saw my dear brother. He was the first I saw. They let down the gangway, and my brother descended, and when the boat hove to again he caught me, and I got on the steps and soon found myself on the deck with all my kin once more. It was quite a year and a half since I saw them. My sister's little girl knew me, and held me by the skirts. I talked to my father. The dear man, how pleased I was to think that I had them all here, and I thought all my trouble was over, which, however, proved not to be the case.

The boat that I went out in came and went two or three times between the ship and the shore. I waited on deck, hoping for a calmness, so I could get them all to come ashore. My sister had a little baby girl that I had not seen before. She would not run the risk of being wrecked so near the beach, but my father and brother landed with me. How delighted my dear father was when he felt his feet on land again. We had to walk to the Port, and it was dark and cold. When we got to the station the last train had gone, and we had to get lodgings in the Port all night. I knew that at No. 10 they would do the best they could till I came. They all knew where I had gone, and were sympathetic. So I brought my brother and father to Adelaide, and showed them where the house was that I had taken for them, and they did not go into a house without something being provided for them. My master sent a man with a butcher's tray with the choicest of meat on it for them. He said that the burden I had to carry was too heavy for my young shoulders.

I was disappointed, and failed to see why my father would not settle in Adelaide. He wanted to go all over the place. My brother-in-law went to work at once in some blacksmith's shop, but my father and brother went up to Moonta. I had promised to go, and be their housekeeper when they got settled. But learning that Moonta was a mining place it got mixed in my mind with Slamannan. I could see that my father, at least, did not like South Australia. I thought that if I went from place to place with them I would be penniless and without a roof. Still, I felt sure that I must do what was right, even if I did not know where I was going. So I wrote and told them I would go to Moonta. Accordingly I went to the Port, and saw Captain Wells, of the steamship Eleanor. He went to Moonta regularly. I did not like leaving No. 10, Rundle-street. It was a very restless time. Captain Wells asked me a lot of questions, and told me he thought I would not like Moonta, if only because of the scattered thinness of the population. I got my trappings on board the Eleanor. I was the only girl passenger on board. In fact, there was no other woman at all. Captain Wells talked to me about bringing out the Eleanor all the way from England entirely, and fully under his own control. I then asked him if he knew Captain Matthews, who was the captain of the Morning Star, and he told me that he had known him in England. I thought Captain Wells just such another good man. He was kind to me, and saw that I was comfortable. He pointed out all the places, and told me the names. We saw Port Wallaroo and Port Wakefield. The Eleanor ran into Port Clinton, and there being no jetty, I got into a little boat. Then a horse and cart came into the sea a good long way, and I got out of the boat and into the cart, in which I got to land. I could not see any houses, but was told that there was one house at Port Clinton. A conveyance was there to take me to Kadina. It went no farther that day. I stopped at the Wombat Hotel, and how pleased I was to find one of my shipmates there as housemaid. I was covered with dust. It was my first experience of the country in Australia. In the morning some other kind of public vehicle carried me on to Moonta. I got there in the afternoon. My father and brother were waiting for me on the roadside. They did not live in Moonta township. Once more I was glad, realising that they had missed me, and were pleased to see me again.

My father worked at a building in Moonta, some large hotel, as a carpenter, and my brother, with some of his shipmates, was again in the mines. Just fancy his coming to Australia only to go in the mines again. Alas, for my castles in the air. There were scarcely any women or girls about, and particularly where we lived they were all mining men, many of them waiting for their wives and families, who had been sent for. Ever so many seemed to live in one or two little houses like the one we had. And just think of it! Some men had places dug in the ground and covered in some rough way. I used to feel so troubled. There was nothing that I could do except cook and take father's dinner into Moonta every day. The wee house we had had no garden attached to it, or anything bright about it, and there were only earth floors. The same kind of houses and buildings were everywhere, set down anyhow. Some end to end and some sideways. For the most part they were whitewashed. There were a lot of trees and scrub, and the worst of it was that my father was so uncomfortable about the heat, and reproached me for bringing him out to South Australia. My brother was nice, but it was a hard time for me. Tears would come as I tried to realise what it all meant. At last when we had been there about six months, father came home before dinner and told me that he was not going to work any more at Moonta, but was going with someone to Angaston, and that we were all going to that town. I did not know before that he had partly bought the house, but he said that he had sold it again. I admit that I was glad beyond words. So father arranged for my brother and me to return to Adelaide, and to take his tool-chest and all the movables while he fixed up about the house. It was not smooth and bright for me, as everything had gone wrong, and I feared that what had begun badly would go on badly. The truth crossed my mind, and a keen disappointment ensued, for I feared they would upset all that I had arranged for their benefit. I was not twenty years old, and anyway I was used to fitting myself into a work-woman. I could see people were sorry when I went away, and glad to see me again and I had not been badly treated as a servant.

We had to buy water and go and fetch it, and then it was condensed water. I felt glad when the time was fixed for leaving Moonta. I saw no evil. The people seemed frank and kindly, but the fewness of women made me miserable. I only saw three in the place where we were. Two elderly women and a younger woman. On the other hand, there were hundreds of men, and when I had to go anywhere it seemed as if I had to pass through a long procession of men. I was shy, but they were offenceless. How many times I have wished to see Moonta again, to see the progress that has been made. I thought my father so terribly foolish, and I was fond of him. He was comparatively a young man. Brother and I got on board the steamer and we arranged that we would stay with my sister till father came. We were both in doubt what we should do. Some mischance happened to our boxes, which left me in a state of hopelessness. We had a tool chest, which did not look large, but it was a great weight, and the man moving it did not know that, and somehow he let it fall into the little boat with such a force that it upset the boat, and the men and all our boxes were floating about in the sea. All our things were spoiled, and the tools as well.

My mind was made up I could not live in such a fashion and comply with the request to go to whatever place the others chose. So when I got to Adelaide again I told some ladies I knew that I would go to service again. And at once I was engaged to go to the Government farm for a month or six weeks, to be the attendant of Sir R. D. Ross, who had just married, or was on the eve of getting married, to Miss Baker. It is called the National Park now. It was very lonely. I was there a few days and nights before they came. The house was a little way from the principal buildings, that being the caretaker's place. An elderly man and his wife lived there. She was so deaf that she had to have a horn to her ear all the time. It was a beautiful place. There were two houses, one being called the old farm, and the other the new. All that I had to do was to keep good fires in the rooms to make them warm. It was cold weather. At last the bridal party arrived, and the lady brought a lady's maid with her. What a gentleman Sir Robert Ross was, and the lady, how gentle of manner! The troopers' horses were left on the farm to run when they were not wanted. They told me that from east to west the distance was nine miles of extended wood. That was the length of the "farm." I slept in the old farmhouse all by myself for nearly a week. In the daytime I never went far from the house for fear I would not find it again. I was taken there in a waggonette with a lady and gentleman. And they were afraid they would never find the place. It was almost dark when we got there, and the roads were not very distinguishable. The lady and gentleman did not stop all night, but the caretaker's wife showed me where I was to sleep. I slept, but I did not then think that I was all by myself in that large building, with nothing having life except the troopers' horses, the opossums, and the wild cats. When I got older I could not do such a thing.

Sir R. D. Ross and his lady were fond of horse-riding, and horses were brought for them. The Government farm was an ideal spot for a honeymoon then. It was just the sort of place to escape attention. During the rest of the time I enjoyed the friendship of the lady's maid, and we strolled together through the woods. She was a colonial, bright and full of adventure. Her name was Martha, and she fairly danced along like a wild bird. It was a great treat to me after my solitude at Moonta. Martha did not know whether her young mistress would settle here or not. For my