Chapter 4

Numbers of boats soon surround the ship, filled with people anxious to hear news, and traffickers with fruit and other refreshments, besides watermen to land passengers; a regular establishment of the latter description has long existed here, many of whose members formerly plied that vocation on the Thames, and among whom were a few years back numbered that famous personage once known by all from Westminster stairs to Greenwich, by the shouts which assailed him as he rowed along, of "Overboard he vent, overboard he vent!" King Boongarre, too, with a boat-load of his dingy retainers, may possibly honour you with a visit, bedizened in his varnished cocked-hat of "formal cut," his gold-laced blue coat (flanked on the shoulders by a pair of massy epaulettes) buttoned closely up, to evade the extravagance of including a shirt in the catalogue of his wardrobe; and his bare and broad platter feet, of dull cinder hue, spreading out like a pair of sprawling toads, upon the deck before you. First, he makes one solemn measured stride from the gangway; then turning round to the quarter-deck, lifts up his beaver with the right hand a full foot from his head, (with all the grace and ease of a court exquisite,) and carrying it slowly and solemnly forwards to a a full arm's-length, lowers it in a gentle and most dignified manner down to the very deck, following up this motion by an inflection of the body almost equally profound. Advancing slowly in this way, his hat gracefully poised in his hand, and his phiz wreathed with many a fantastic smile, he bids _massa_ welcome to _his_ country. On finding he has fairly grinned himself into your good graces, he formally prepares to take leave, endeavouring at the same time to _take_ likewise what you are probably less willing to part withal--namely, a portion of your cash. Let it not be supposed, however, that his majesty condescends to _thieve_; he only solicits the _loan_ of a _dump_, on pretence of treating his sick _gin_ [wife] to a cup of tea, but in reality with a view of treating _himself_ to a porringer of "Cooper's best," to which his majesty is most royally devoted. You land at the government wharf on the right, where carts and porters are generally on the look-out for jobs; and on passing about fifty yards along the avenue, you enter George-street, which stretches on both hands, and up which, towards the left, you now turn, to reach the heart of the town.

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Although all you see are English faces, and you hear no other language but English spoken, yet you soon become aware that you are in a country very different from England, by the number of parrots and other birds of strange notes and plumage which you observe hanging at so many doors, and cagesful of which you will soon see exposed for sale as you proceed. The government gangs of convicts, also, marching backwards and forwards from their work in single military file, and the solitary ones straggling here and there, with their white woollen Paramatta frocks and trousers, or gray or yellow jackets with duck overalls, (the different styles of dress denoting the oldness or newness of their arrival,) all bedaubed over with broad arrows, P.B.'s, C.B.'s, and various numerals in black, white, and red, with perhaps the jail-gang straddling sulkily by in their jingling leg-chains,--tell a tale too plain to be misunderstood. At the corners of streets, and before many of the doors, fruit-stalls are to be seen, teeming, in their proper seasons, with oranges, lemons, limes, figs, grapes, peaches, nectarines, apricots, plums, apples, pears, &c. at very moderate prices.--_Two Years in New South Wales_.

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MELANCHOLY.

FROM MATTHISON

The nightingale's sad note in gloom is ringing, As wails the bride above her lover's grave; Like Grief above the tomb her tresses wringing, So gleams the star of evening o'er the wave.

A melancholy haze hangs o'er the ocean; The rocky cliffs reflect a sallow light-- Such as through cloister'd halls of dim devotion, The moon-beams pour upon the cloudy night.

Ye rocky heights--ye violet-meads appearing Once fairer to my gaze than poet's dream-- Now all your golden light to gloom is veering, And every floweret laves in Lethe's stream.

Hills, valleys, meads, no changes ye are mourning; 'Tis to the hopeless every star appears Like lamps in dark sepulchral vistas burning-- And every dew-tipp'd flower is gemm'd with tears!

_Stray Leaves; or, Translations from the German Poets_.

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THE GATHERER

"I am but a _Gatherer_ and disposer of other men's stuff."--_Wotton_.

The projector of one of the new canals, accompanied by two or three friends, was superintending the operations of the workmen, and frequently lamented the loss which the speculation was likely to occasion to him. He was mounted on horseback at the time, when the animal, suddenly becoming unruly, plunged, and threw his rider into the water. Being quickly rescued from his disagreeable situation, and safely landed on the bank, one of his companions begged to congratulate him on the happy change that had taken place in his fortune, "for have I not often told you (said the wit) that the canal would one day _fill your pockets_?"

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A cube of gold, of little more than five inches on each side, contains the value of 10,000_l_. sterling.

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"There is a rich rector in Worcestershire," said one of the colonel's guests, "whose name I cannot now recollect, but who has not preached for the last twelve months, as he every Sunday requests one of the neighbouring clergy to officiate for him."--"Oh!" replied Colonel Landleg, "though you cannot recollect his name, I can; it is England--_England expects every man to do his duty_."

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The church-bells at Lima are very musical, the brass of which they are composed having a considerable quantity of silver mixed with it; but they are rung in the most discordant manner. Instead of being pulled in chimes, as in England, thongs of leather are fixed to the clappers, and at the appointed times boys ascend the belfry, and swing the tongues of all the bells at once, from one side to another, producing the most barbarous combination of sounds imaginable. A friar who had been in England observed, that the English had very good bells if they knew but how to ring.

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A laborious special pleader, being constantly annoyed by the mewing of his favourite cat, at length resolved to get rid of it. He accordingly told his clerk to take and place it where it might remain in safety, but still where it could never get out. The clerk instantly walked off with poor puss in his lawyer's bag. On his return, being asked by his employer whether the noisy animal had been so disposed of that it could not come back to interrupt him, the cat carrier duly answered, "Certainly, I have put him where he cannot get out--in the Court of Chancery."--_Reynolds' Life_.