them to it with some mysterious knot, and
poises the rod on his shoulder, so carrying his
luggage; then proceeds on his journey at a
slinging slipshod even trot—much like the trot
of a tired butcher's hack, which gets over the
ground at about four miles an hour, or rather
less.

The early Chinese colonist, when he landed,
looked for lodgings; and, to get them, all he did
was to cut two upright sticks, with a fork at
the top, from the nearest gum-tree or bush,
place them in the ground about six feet apart,
put another slender pole between them, and
throw over all a sheet of dusky brown calico,
which was pegged down to the ground at
suitable intervals. The whole tent was four
or five feet high, and afforded barely enough
room for his narrow bed, which by day is
rolled up, and always carried in one of the
baskets before mentioned. All his cooking, washing,
and laundry-work, which was of the smallest
amount, he performed out in the open air.
A large number of tents were pitched as close
together as they inconveniently could be pitched,
and all the inhabitants, frequently two or three
to one tent, were huddled together less
comfortably than sheep in their pens. In a short
time, the refuse from this camp was strewed in
and around it, and odours arose therefrom. The
food consisted, in those early days, of rice, of
which they invariably preferred the kinds not in
repute among Europeans; they chose for their
meat, legs and shins of beef, reduced to a sort
of bouilli, together with an occasional morsel
of pork as a treat.

The Chinese method of working was at first
as peculiar as the other habits of these people,
and loud and deep were the complaints of the
European miners. They affected the "tub and
cradle," and the washing pan. Instead,
however, of sinking a shaft, John Chinaman
delighted in raking up old "tailings," or refuse
from a preceding digger's work, and putting them
through his cradle, without using the tub at all.
At other times, a system of "surfacing" was
carried on to a large extent; which means that
the men scratched up the surface soil to a
depth of two or three inches or feet, and
put it all through the cradle. The returns from
such methods of mining, while thoroughly
unsatisfactory to Europeans, were gladly
accepted as sufficient by the less ambitious
Asiatics.

A few of the most enterprising of these
Orientals took up various portions of land in
good sites, which were unalienated from the
crown, and, fencing it round with closely-
woven bushes, digged gardens, wherein they
sowed lettuce, radishes, spring onions, cabbages,
and gathered a rich harvest of profits. On
the banks of the River Loddon, such a
garden extends over at least twelve acres
of ground. It is surrounded by a rough
but secure fence. This is necessary, as there
are many goats and cattle wandering about.
A gate, wide enough to drive an American
waggon through, leads to the house, which,
in this instance, is built of weather boards.
Outside the house, which is not larger than
about twenty feet by twelve, is a sort of summer-
house, built of leaves and branches of gum-trees,
under which the lord of the mansion delights to
take his frugal meals. The house is used
only to sleep in, and very uncomfortable it
must be, as it is parted off into a considerable
number of tiny rooms, each fitted with bunks,
after the style of our government emigration
vessels. The entrance is guarded by two dogs,
who bark and strain at their chains most furiously
whenever an European shows himself. A stable
for the horses (the Chinaman has a particular
delight in horseflesh) forms one side of the
quadrangle, the house another, and on the
two sides is the garden fence. The garden
is a model of its kind. The ground is laid
out with neatness and regularity, and the
vegetables are planted with mathematical
accuracy. Being formed on the banks of the
Loddon, and so close that the steep bank to
the river-side enables the proprietor to
dispense with a fence near the water, there is the
required facility for irrigation—the secret of the
Chinaman's success—two or three pumps being
set up to raise the water to the level of the
garden. From the pumps, the water is conveyed
in troughs all over the ground, and into various
small tanks which are sunk at the corner of
each bed. From these the Chinese labourers
draw water in the ordinary watering-pots, and
early and late may be seen going about as wet
as possible, and watering each little lettuce and
cabbage with as much care as the European
gardener gives to his rarest exotic. To protect
the young and tender plants from the too fierce
rays of the sun, these gardeners spread small
squares of damp cloth over them. The cabbages
are subject to the ravages of an aphis, which
soon destroys the plant. The European, when
his plants are thus attacked, quietly folds his
hands and watches their destruction; but the
Chinaman takes a strong mixture of soap, soda,
tobacco, and other things, and with a small
brush carefully washes over every leaf of every
plant affected. By these means he rears his
stock and brings into the market plenty of fresh
young tender plants, when one is not to be
obtained for love or money from an European.
The Victorian gardeners refuse to be taught by
the experience of previous failures, and the
consequence is, that for a regular fresh and cheap
supply of vegetables we are wholly dependent
on the patient industry of the Chinese. In the
Loddon garden, thirty-six men are employed.
The headman, vindicates his title by using his
head only, preferring to keep his finger-nails
long, and to employ the hands of others. When
the vegetables of this garden are cut, they are
placed in cane baskets, and taken to a large tub,
where they are stripped of all waste or decaying
leaves, carefully washed, and packed for sale in
the baskets with as much cleanliness, care, and
delicacy, as a Devonshire woman bestows on
the packing of her butter for market. John
Chinaman lifts a fresh crisp young lettuce as