of milk, and a cask of wine, home-made wine,
formed the drinkables: rum, which on such
occasions is usually introduced as a treat,
being excluded by the scruples of our hosts.
In compliment to me, as a stranger, a bottle
of porter was uncorked, its cost exceeding old
crusty Port at a Richmond dinner. When I add
that every man pulled out his own clasp-knife,
that only six forks could be mustered, and
that no particular order was observed in the
eating, I have said everything. Soon after
supper, the ladies retired; the men took their
smoke; those living near saddled up, the far
away ones unrolled their blankets and stretched
out on the floor. Before and since I have
attended balls and suppers more refined, but
never so enjoyable, because it was a real
luxury, no other Bush-establishment having
so much music or so many pretty girls for
partners.

The next day a party set out to form a new
station in the interior, which had been
previously explored. The sheep, in two flocks of
six hundred each, had gone forward two days
previously. The young men having come up
from Father Gabriel's out-stations, there was
a great gathering. The head of the party was
Harry Granby, husband of Polly Gabriel's
sister Myra. The old folks had contributed
fortunes for the young people in stock, and
they had determined to push on quite outside
the furthest stations on ground lately
discovered.

Two bullock drays were loaded with
everything needed for a station. The little old
lame man, with the crutch-handled stick, came
up riding a half-bred Timor pony, with a pair
of draught bullocks, which he insisted on
presenting to the young couple as regular " good
uns," instead of a pair that seemed not quite
steady. A mixed herd of six hundred head
of cattle were collected in a stock-yard, to go
forward under charge of Granby's brother,
one of the young Gabriels, and an experienced
stockman, with four volunteers; the other
splitters and fencers and servants had gone
with the sheep.

The strangest sight, and the prettiest, was
Myra Granby on her grey mare, with a great
yearling colt running alongside, all ready
with blankets, tin pots, holster, and provision-
bags, strapped on, to march into the interior.
Contrary to all precedent, a shepherd's wife,
riding on one of the drays, was the only other
woman. This move of Myra's created a
universal outcry, but she made no answer to
the last words, except cracking her stock-
whip: and, looking at her firm, though rosy,
mouth, and very decided eyebrows, it was
clear that when Myra made up her mind,
Harry had nothing to do but give way.

Amid the prayers of the fathers and
mothers, good wishes of the young ones, a
volley of old shoes from Dora and Molly the
maid-servants, the reports of the bullock-
drivers' whips, the shouts of the stockmen,
and the barking of the cattle-dogs,—the
party moved off into the wilderness. To see
them winding along in the distance, was
almost a scene from the days of Abraham
and Lot.

As the last straggler passed over the brow
of the range, " There," said Father Gabriel,
"there, young gentleman, that's the way we
swarm off our young bees in this country.
No landlord, no rent worth speaking of, no
taxes. But come, let us mount and see my
farm."

The skill and industry of a North-country
farmer, with a large supply of labour in his
own family, applied to fertile soil, ready for
the plough without clearing, under a climate
without winter and without droughts, had
done wonders. The crops were splendid;
but, to an eye accustomed to good Scotch or
English farming, everything seemed rude,
slovenly, and unfinished. But, as the old
man truly observed, "Good, neat farming,
don't pay in a colony: labour is dear, and
land cheap. A crop might be got out of five
acres while you were stumping one acre. For
the same reason, no man can make a living
as a farmer who cannot work with his
own hands, and get help in his own family.
Gentlemen like you, sir, should keep to
squatting with sheep or cattle; and then,
if you look after your men, you can do.
Spend nothing you can help, and do all you
can for yourself. That's the secret of
Colonial success.

"I have spent more time and labour on my
garden than is the custom in the colony, but
then I wished to keep my family round me,
and for years only hired two men; I with my
sons did all the rest. We began our garden
on the same day as our hut, and we eat our
own cabbage and bacon the first year."

Thus chatting, we reached an eminence,
where I could look down on the wild and
reclaimed land, "A lovely scene," I observed;
"how bright and clear everything comes out
under these cloudless skies."

"Why yes," said Father Gabriel, "it does
look very pretty; and perhaps you might have
liked it even better the first time I saw it; the
grass breast high, full of kangaroos, and the
water holes alive with black swans and
pelicans: but pretty as it was, I can assure you it
made my heart sore to think I had brought
my family into such a wilderness, so lonely,
surrounded by bloodthirsty savages, so far
from help, and such a deal of new kind of
work to do before I could make it anything
like the place where we were all reared. If my
old woman had not had a good heart, and the
young ones been all such hard-bitten ones and
hopeful, I think I should never have pulled
through. There were not many immigrants
in those days, and England seemed a great
deal further off than it does now. But, thank
God, I would not change places now with the
owner of Brancepeth Castle."

"But," said I, "you speak so fondly of Old
England; you seem so glad to welcome any