Australia Felix

two hills and the va

, and its forest of masts. The nearer foreground was made up of mud flats, through which a sluggish, coffee-coloured river wound its way to the sea. On the horizon to the north, the Dandenong Ranges rose storm-blue and distinct, and seemed momently to be

s of Swanston Street, or of the bullock which sank, inch by inch, before its owner’s eyes in the Elizabeth Street bog. Massive erections of freestone were going up alongside here a primitive, canvas-fronted dwelling, there one formed wholly of galvanised iron. Fashionable shops, two storeys high, stood next tiny, dilapidated weatherboards. In the roadway, handsome chaises, landaus, four-in-hands made room

ftener than she could help: now, even at this hour, the streets were starred with them. Purdy, open-mouthed, his eyes a-dance, turned his head this way and that, pointed and exclaimed. But then HE had slept like a log, and felt in his own words “as fit as a fiddle.”

as, besides, hard to detach his thoughts from the disagreeable affair that had brought him to Melbourne. And as so

ngs with him, this Bolliver had been an alert and respectable man of business. Now he was evidently on the downgrade; and the cause of the deterioration was advertised in his bloodshot eyeballs and veinous cheeks. Early as was the hour, he had already been indulging: his breath puffed sour. Mahony prepared to state the object of his visit in no uncertain terms. But his preliminaries were cut short by a volley of abuse. The man accused him point-blank of having been privy to the rascally drayman’s fraud and

offer. But Purdy disapproved. Why put himself to so much trouble, when he had old Ocock’s recommendation to his lawyer-son in his coat pocket? Wh

aving matched the house-number and descried the words: “Mr. Henry Ocock, Conveyancer and Attorney, Commissioner of Affidavits,” painted black on two dusty windows, t

ng man and a boy, neither of whom rose at their entrance. The lad was cutting notches in a stick and whistling tunefully; the clerk, a young fellow in the early twent

iseless laugh, which he immediately quenched by clapping his hand over his mouth, and shutting one eye at hi

inform Mr. Ocock that I wish t

tum-dee-ay!— Now then,

h which he vanished, having first let his knuckles bump, as if by chance, against the wood of the panel.

d hotly, in response to the red-haired man’s invitation to “get it off his chest.” “I

impse of what was going on inside. But his voice came to them through the thin partition. “Oh, just a couple o’ stony-broke Paddylanders.” Mahony, who had seized the opportunity to dart an angry glance at Purdy, which should say: “This is what one gets by coming to your second-rate pettifoggers!” now let his eyes rest on his friend and critically detai

ster! The boss’

he air, Mahony found himself in the presence of a man of his own age, who sat absorbed in the study of a document. At their entry two beady grey eyes lifted to t

y, the wilful delay made his gorge rise. For a few seconds he fumed in silence; then, his patience exhausted, he

s if he had received a blow under the chin. Again he narrowed his eyes at the couple.

been on the watch for it. His irritation fell; he was ready on the instant to be propitiated. Putting his hat aside he sat down, and having introduced himself, made reference

eat he joined his hands, and wound them in and out. “I think you may take it from

on: “Myself, I do not doubt it. I am not a rich man, but serious though the monetary loss would be to me, I should settle the matt

cheeks and round his chin, meeting beneath it. The shaven upper lid was long and flat, with no central markings, and helped to form a mouth that had not much more shape or expression than a slit cut by a knife in a sheet of paper. The chin was bare

dvancing only in so far as it suited them out of the darkness where they housed among strangely worded paragraphs and obscure formulas?— But these musings were cut short. Having fondled his chin for a further moment, Ocock looked up and put a question. And, while he could not but admire the lawyer’s acumen, this did not lessen Mahony’s discomfort. All unguided, it went straight for what he believed to be the one weak spot in his armour. It related to the drayman

ties. “No writing? H’m! So . . . so!” To read his thoughts was an impossibility; but as he proceeded with his catechism it was easy to see how

ith. “My experience has invariably been this, Mr. Mahony: people who suggest that kind of thing, and accuse others of it, are those who are accustomed to m

of the goods for granted. But might they not, being partly of a perishable nature, have gone bad or o

ock ceased coddling his chin to point a straight forefinger at him, with a triumphant: “You see!”— But Purdy who, sick and tired of the discussion, had withdrawn

a firm of solicitors in Ballarat: could Mr. Mahony, as a resident, confirm the report? Mahony regretted his ignorance, but spoke in praise o

comment as they emerged into the rain-swept

uring the visit: he had said no intelligent word, but had lounged lumpishly in his chair — the very picture of the country

He’ll slithe

s any need for slithering . .

nd as long as he gets you th

ers to m

helters to wade through beds of mud, or to cross, on planks, the deep, swift rivers formed by the open drains. There were several such cloud-bursts in the c

a fresh load of goods. For, whether he lost or won

o the Mechanics’ Hall, to hear a lecture on Mesmerism. Mahony had looked forward to this all through the sorry job of choosing soaps and candles. The subject piqued his curiosity. It was the one

matter of regret to Mahony that, outside the hobnob of daily life, he and his friend had so few int

rcade, a woman’s form detached itself

a drink,

me vagrom fancy quickened in him, either by the voice, which was not u

y boy. We’ve n

woman levelled a volley of abuse at Maho

” said Purdy. “Or go ahe

n it would hold.— And, as he picked his muddy steps, Mahony agreed with himself that the net result, for him, of Purdy’s coming to the colony, had been to saddle him with a new responsibility. It was his lot for ever to be helping the lad out of tight places. Sometimes it made him feel unnecessarily bearish. For Purdy had the knack, common to sunny, improvident natures, of taking everything that was done for him for granted. His want of delicacy in this respect was distre

h an air of pained surprise — Mahony decided that Purdy should have his chance. The heavy rains of the day, and the consequent probable flooding of the Ponds an