Interesting Statistical Facts.--Emigration.--Heavy
Indebtedness.--Curious Contrasts.--New South Wales.--A
Populous City.--A Splendid Harbor.--The Yacht
"Sunbeam."--Street Scenes.--Gin Palaces.--Public Gardens of
Sydney.--A Noble Institution of Learning.--Art
Gallery.--Public Libraries.--Pleasure Trip to
Parametta.--Attractive Drives.--A Sad Catastrophe in Sydney
Harbor.
Before proceeding to take the reader from city to city, and to depict
their several peculiarities, a few statistics gathered by the author on
the spot will afford as tangible evidence of the growth and present
commercial standing of the colonies of Australasia as anything which
could be adduced.
The annual revenue raised by these colonies aggregates a larger sum than
that realized by Sweden, Norway, Switzerland, Denmark, and Greece
united. Five hundred million dollars are annually paid for imports; and
exports to a like amount are sent from the country. Up to the present
writing Australia has realized from her auriferous soil over three
hundred and thirty million pounds sterling. Her territory gives grazing
at the present time to over seventy-five million sheep. This is more
than double the whole number of sheep in the United States. When it is
remembered that the population of this country is sixty millions, and
that Australia has not much over three millions, the force of this
comparison becomes obvious. The amount of wool exported to the mother
country is twenty-eight times as much as England has received in the
same period from the continent of Europe. The combined exports and
imports of the United Kingdom of Great Britain are shown to be a little
over one hundred dollars per annum for each unit of the population; in
Australia the aggregate is a trifle over two hundred dollars per head.
The four principal capitals of Australia contain over eight hundred
thousand inhabitants. The railroads of the country have already cost
over two hundred million dollars, and are being extended annually. New
South Wales has in proportion to its population a greater length of
railroad than any other country in the world, while there are some
thirty thousand miles of telegraph line in the length and breadth of the
land. In ten years, between 1870 and 1880, New Zealand doubled her
population, having now some six hundred thousand; and the Australian
colonies increased at nearly as rapid a rate, while the monthly
immigration still going on gives constant and profitable employment to
one of the best equipped steamship lines upon the ocean.
The steady and natural increase of population in Great Britain, taken in
connection with the circumscribed limits of her territory, demands an
outlet for the annual emigration of a large percentage of her people.
There are no better lands for those who are thus induced, or compelled,
to seek another field wherein to create a new home than Australia and
New Zealand. There are several considerations that lead to this
conviction. First, such immigrants will still be under the fostering
care of their native government; second, the colonial authorities offer
great inducements to immigrants, such as grants of land together with
free transportation from the old to the new country; and third, there is
here a climate far more desirable and healthful than that of England,
Ireland, or Scotland. While the necessary cost of living is less, wages
are higher, and many luxuries can be enjoyed which at home would not be
considered within the reach of persons of moderate means. Bread, the
staff of life, and meat, its strong supporter, are both very much
cheaper in the colonies than in any part of Great Britain. These
considerations enforce the conclusion that Australasia is the natural
resort of emigrants from the British Isles, and that it will continue to
attract thence a steady flow of population. Canada for the emigrant
presents not a moiety of the inducements of these South Sea lands, nor
can we understand what possible reason can lead British subjects to
select it above the favored country of which we are treating.
While we were discussing the economical and political condition of the
colonies with a government official at Sydney, he took occasion to
express regret at the large debt of the colonies. We are glad to know,
however, that these debts of the several divisions of Australia and New
Zealand do not represent the cost of useless wars or expenditures for
vain glory; on the contrary, the money has been invested in railroads
and other necessary and substantial improvements, which form an ample
security or mortgage for the same, and which is yearly increasing in
value. Probably some of these enterprises have been premature, but their
ultimate value is beyond all doubt.
Australia is divided into five provincial governments,--New South Wales,
Victoria, Queensland, South Australia, and West Australia. The island of
Tasmania forms another province, and is separated from Victoria by Bass
Strait, the two being within half a day's sail of each other. Sydney is
the capital of New South Wales; Melbourne, of Victoria; Adelaide, of
South Australia; Brisbane, of Queensland; Perth, of West Australia; and
Hobart, of Tasmania. It may be remarked incidentally that South
Australia might more properly be designated by some other title, as it
is not South Australia at all. Victoria lies south of it, and so does a
large portion of West Australia. The governments of these several
divisions are modelled upon that of New South Wales, the parent colony
of them all.
Though we are by no means attempting to write a history or make a
geography of these great southlands, still an enumeration of certain
important facts is not inappropriate, and will serve to make matters
more clear to the general reader as he accompanies us through the
following pages.
We have said that the several governments of these colonies are modelled
upon that of New South Wales, which has a constitution and two Houses of
Parliament. The first, or Legislative Council, is composed of a limited
number of members nominated by the Crown, and who hold office for life;
the second, or Legislative Assembly, is composed of members elected from
the various constituencies, who are chosen by ballot. All acts before
becoming law must receive the approval of the Queen of England, though
this is said to be practically a mere form. There is a resident Governor
in each colony, also appointed by the Queen. Educational facilities,
especially as regards primary schools, are abundant, attendance upon
which is compulsory. Where children reside at some considerable distance
from school, free passes are given to them on the railroads to
facilitate compliance with the legal requirement.
One of the first thoughts that dawned upon us after we had time fully to
realize this state of affairs in these Antipodes was that as compared
with our own country this is a land of curious contradictions. Here the
eagles are white and the swans black; the emu, a bird nearly as large as
the ostrich, cannot fly, but runs like a horse. The principal quadruped
here, the kangaroo, is elsewhere unknown; and though he has four legs,
he runs upon two. When the days are longest with us in America, they are
shortest here. To reach the Tropics Australians go due north, while we
go due south. With us the seed, or stone, of the cherry forms the
centre of the fruit; in Australia the stone grows on the outside. The
foliage of the trees in America spreads out horizontally; in this
south-land the leaves hang vertically. When it is day with us, it is
night with them. Here Christmas comes in midsummer; with us, in
mid-winter. Bituminous and anthracite coal are with us only one
color,--black, black as Erebus; but they have white bituminous coal
here, white as chalk. We are thousands of miles north of the equator;
they are thousands of miles south of it. The deciduous trees with us
shed their leaves in winter; with them they are evergreen, shedding
their bark and not their leaves,--the gardens of Alcinous being not more
perennial than the length and breadth of this favored land.
In proceeding with our subject it is proper to begin with New South
Wales, at whose capital we landed, this colony being also the oldest if
not the wealthiest province of the entire country. Not only her mineral
wealth and great agricultural facilities, but her commanding position
and numerous admirable harbors will ever enable her to maintain
precedence among her prosperous and wealthy sister colonies. As
originally founded, New South Wales embraced the whole eastern seaboard
of Australia; but in 1851 the southern part was formed into the province
of Victoria, and in 1859 the northern part was divided into a separate
colony, called Queensland, still leaving her an extensive sea-coast of
eight hundred miles in length. When we say that New South Wales is twice
as large as California, it will be realized that she is not greatly
circumscribed in territory. The present population, in the absence of
actual statistics, may be safely stated to amount in round numbers to
one million.
Sydney, often called by her citizens the Queen of the Pacific, is built
upon two ridges of land of considerable elevation, the valley between
being occupied by the busiest portion of the population and containing
the best shops in every department of trade. There are many fine large
business and public edifices of stone, but these are only too often
flanked by buildings of a very low and awkward construction, one story
in height. There is no consecutive purpose or uniformity in the street
architecture, a wild irregularity prevailing. George Street, which is
the main business thoroughfare, is two miles in length, and contains
many stores or shops furnished as well as the average of those in Vienna
and Paris. These are really fine business edifices, having massive
French plate-glass windows and being in all particulars admirably
appointed.
The peculiar conformation of the town makes the lateral streets
precipitous, so that a large portion of the city is composed of hilly
avenues, to surmount which there is a constant struggle going on with
loaded teams. Like the old streets of Boston, those of Sydney were the
growth of chance, and were not originally laid out after a system, as in
Melbourne, Adelaide, or Brisbane. Our Washington Street was originally a
cow-path, while the present site of George Street in Sydney was at
first a meandering bullock-track. The names of the streets are historic
in their suggestions. George Street was named after George the Third,
during whose reign the colony was founded. Pitt Street is named after
the Earl of Chatham; Castlereagh, Bathurst, Erskine, and other streets
recall familiar names of English statesmen. The higher thoroughfares,
those upon the ridges, overlook the inner harbor and shipping, affording
a constantly varying maritime picture. Thus from nearly opposite our
hotel, on the day of our arrival, we saw lying upon the waters of the
bay four large German men-of-war (the same which afterward visited and
terrorized the simple natives of the Samoan Islands), and also an
iron-clad belonging to Japan fully equal in nautical appearance to the
German craft. All were dressed from their hulls to their topmast heads
with tiny flags in gayest colors, as it happened to be Coronation day. A
little nearer the heart of the town, in what is known as Farm Cove, Lord
Brassey's famous yacht, the "Sunbeam," rode quietly at anchor, whose
keel has cut the waters of all the notable harbors of the world, and
whose significant name the late lamented Lady Brassey has rendered a
household word by her delightful pen. The snow-white hull and graceful
rig of the yacht was not unfamiliar to the author, who saw it six years
ago at Port Said, and who then met its late mistress at Cairo, in Egypt.
Excursion steamers, ferry-boats, men-of-war launches, racing-cutters,
and a hundred small sailing-craft added life and interest to this
impressive picture of Sydney harbor, as seen from the higher streets of
the town.
The much-lauded bay is indeed charming, as the most indifferent
spectator must admit; yet it did not strike us as so much more beautiful
than others that we have visited in various countries. It is better,
however, not to challenge the ire of all Sydney by speaking irreverently
of the harbor, since the faithful worship of its alleged incomparable
beauty is with the citizens a species of religion. It has the advantage
of being but slightly affected by the tides, and in consequence has no
shoals to spoil the view with their muddy aspect at various times each
day, or to emit noxious fumes under the rays of a burning sun. Eight or
nine fathoms of water in nearly any part of the bay make it accessible
to ships of heaviest draught. It is seven miles from the entrance at the
Heads up to the city proper. This capacious basin, with its countless
nooks and windings, has a shore line of two hundred and fifty miles, the
whole of which is so well protected and land-locked that in all weather
it is as glassy and smooth as the Lake of Geneva.
The main thoroughfares of Sydney are not kept in a very cleanly
condition,--a statement which even the residents must indorse; but the
streets are full of the busy life which appertains to a great
metropolis. Cabs and private vehicles dash hither and thither;
heavily-laden drays grind their broad wheels over the rough pavements;
pedestrians crowd the sidewalks; messenger boys, mounted upon wiry
little horses, gallop on their several errands, some of them dressed in
scarlet coats, signifying that they are in Government service; newspaper
hawkers, boot-blacks, bearers of advertising placards, itinerant
fruit-venders, Chinamen with vegetables in baskets slung on a pole
across their shoulders, pass and repass one in rapid succession;
omnibuses rattle furiously over the pavements, while the "going, going,
gone," of the open sham auction-rooms rings upon the ear. Now and then
one meets a beggar, blind or decrepit; but such are not numerous, and
generally palliate their vocation as well as evade the law by offering
some trifling articles for sale, such as pencils, shoestrings, or
matches. In European cities, where professional beggary is so often
resorted to as a regular occupation, one hardens his heart and passes
these people heedlessly by; but here in Sydney he drops a trifle in the
hat. Every street-corner has its bar-room, about whose doors are
congregated a disreputable crowd of bloated faces and bleared eyes,
among whom are seen only too many of the youth of the town, beginners in
vicious habits, besides numerous idle but able-bodied representatives of
the laboring classes. No part of London even is more numerously supplied
with gin palaces and low tap-rooms than Sydney. The sad sight of
intoxicated women staggering along the public way shocked the
sensibilities, though this unfortunate exhibition was far less common
than we have seen it in Liverpool and Glasgow. The demi-monde are fully
represented upon the streets,--one of the sad but inevitable
concomitants of a great city. Let us add, in all fairness, that this
objectionable feature is certainly no more conspicuous here than in
Chicago or New York,--a fact which is mentioned not to draw a
comparison, but in order faithfully to depict the every-day aspect of a
colonial capital.
Turning from these multiform scenes of human life, often ludicrous, but
oftener painfully sad, we sought the Botanical Gardens; and after that
at Calcutta, and the superb gardens of Kandy in Ceylon, this of Sydney
is the next finest we remember to have seen. In round numbers these
gardens embrace fifty acres of land, laid out in terraces and irregular
elevations, so that many of the broad paths overlook portions of the
city and harbor. The grounds extend on a gentle incline to the shores of
the beautiful bay, forming a semicircle round what is known as Farm
Cove, a picturesque indentation of the harbor. The several main paths
are liberally ornamented with statuary representing Flora, Ceres,
Commerce, Science, etc. One special charm of these delightful grounds is
the fact that they are accessible by a walk of about five minutes from
the centre of the city. It is not necessary to organize an excursion in
order to reach them, as is the case with many similar resorts elsewhere,
such as Sydenham in London, Central Park in New York, or the Bois de
Boulogne, Paris. Here semi-arctic and semi-tropical plants and trees
were found growing together, and all parts of the globe seemed to be
liberally represented. The hardy Scotch fir and the delicate palm of
the tropics jostle each other; the india-rubber tree and the laurel are
close friends; the California pine and the Florida orange thrive side by
side; so with the silver fern-tree of New Zealand and the guava of Cuba.
China, Japan, India, Africa, Egypt, and South America, all have
furnished representative trees and shrubs for these comprehensive
gardens, and here they have become acclimatized. A thrifty cluster of
the Indian bamboo, that king of the grasses, was seen here forty feet
high, close by a specimen of the native Australian musk-tree, which
attains a height of nearly twenty feet and exhales from leaf and bark a
peculiarly sweet odor, though not at all like what its name would seem
to indicate; it has broad, laurel-like leaves and bears a pale yellow
blossom. There was pointed out to us a sheoak-tree, which it is said
emits a curious wailing sound during the quietest state of the
atmosphere, when there is not a breath of wind to move the branches or
the leaves. This tree is almost universally found growing near the sea,
and is said to have borrowed the murmur of the conch-shell. No
reasonable cause is assigned for its mournful song, which has proved to
be the inspiring theme of many a local poet.
Near the very centre of the gardens three Norfolk Island pines attracted
particular attention because of their remarkable development. The head
gardener told us that they were planted here about 1820, and they are
certainly the noblest examples of their kind we have seen. The oldest
one, perfect in form and foliage, is ninety-five feet high, and three
feet from the ground measures fourteen feet nine inches in
circumference; the other two are even taller, but measure one foot less
in circumference. The density of foliage, uniformity of shape, and
general perfection of these beautiful pines exceed anything of the kind
to be found elsewhere.
In walking to the Garden by the way of Bridge Street, there was
observed, just opposite the buildings containing the Educational Bureau,
a dual tree of great size and beauty. The effect was that of one immense
tree, but there were really two trunks which furnished this mountain of
foliage. They were Moreton Bay Fig-trees, and were full of green fruit.
This tree, the fruit of which we believe is useless, has a singular
habit which recalls that of the banyan-tree; namely, that of forming
many aerial roots which hang downward from the branches, though they do
not grow long enough to reach the earth and produce new stock like the
banyan,--which is known, by the way, as the Indian fig-tree.
Within the Botanical Gardens the flowers were as attractive and in as
great variety as the trees. Fuchsias, roses, camellias in great variety,
pansies of the double species, a whole army of brilliant tulips, and
many other plants were in gorgeous bloom, though this was in July,
which, it must be remembered, is winter in Sydney. The collection of
camellias was remarkable both for the size to which they grew and for
the abundance of the blossoms. Over three hundred were counted on one
tree, as white as untrodden snow, all being of perfect form and
freshness; there were others double, single, striped, and scarlet, all
thrifty and lovely, but none of them quite equal to the myriad-decked
one in white. The azaleas, double scarlet geraniums, violets,
heliotropes, and daphnes were dazzling in color and confusing in their
abundance. Nestling among the mounds of rock-work were succulent plants,
orchids, cacti, ferns, and other pleasing forms of delicate vegetation.
Flowers bloom in every month of the year in this region, out of doors,
and are rarely troubled by frost.
As we came out of the Public Garden after this first visit, the last
rays of the setting sun threw tremulous shadows over the foliage and the
pale faces of the marble statues. The softening colors of the western
sky were reflected clearly in the unruffled arm of the bay close at
hand, tinging its waters with purple and golden hues. It was a scene and
moment to put one at peace with all the world. The atmosphere was
intoxicatingly fragrant just at this bedtime hour of the flowers,
filling one here, within pistol-shot of the crowded, boisterous life of
the town, with sensuous delight.
Sydney has two or three moderate-sized but very attractive arcades,--one
especially worthy of note leading from George Street near the City Hall,
in which are many fine shops, refreshment saloons, and cafes, with
flower and fruit stores. These areas being under glass--that is, roofed
over at the top of the buildings--are a favorite resort for ladies and
promenaders generally. On entering these arcades one steps from
deafening and confusing noise into a quiet atmosphere, with most
agreeable surroundings. Not far away on George Street is the general
vegetable and fruit market, where poultry and flowers are also sold. The
articles are displayed with an artistic eye for color and appropriate
effect. Young women are employed to sell the fruit and flowers, whose
pleasant and by no means obtrusive importunity with visitors makes many
purchasers. George Street is fragrant on a sunny afternoon with
button-hole bouquets, purchased of these flower-girls, who evince
admirable taste in the graceful and effective manner of arranging their
floral gems. The display of fruit is remarkable, and the article is as
cheap as it is tempting; so that those who in England or in many parts
of America would not feel able to afford to indulge in oranges, apples,
pears, and bananas, not forgetting the appetizing fruit of the
passion-plant, here make of these a wholesome addition to their daily
food-supply. Sydney is only rivalled in this respect by San Francisco,
which city cannot be surpassed in the cheapness or quality of its fruit
from tropical and semi-tropical regions within its own borders.
Many floral establishments solely devoted to the sale of plants and
cut-flowers were observed in different sections of the city with very
beautiful displays in their large plate-glass windows. It is only a
liberal population of refined taste which will support these attractive
establishments; their manifest thrift tells its own story.
If in these notes we speak most frequently of the common classes,
depicting scenes illustrative of humble and every-day life among the
masses, it is because such are the most representative; but the reader
may be sure that there is another class happily existing in Sydney, and
in all of these Pacific colonies, where the author met with and shared
the hospitality of many cultured people, who exhibited a degree of
refinement unsurpassed in the best of our own home circles. Some writers
choose to dilate upon their intercourse with such people, giving the
names of officials and the initials of private individuals from whom
they received entertainment; but it seems to us better to avoid such
personal mention, in which the reader can feel very little interest.
The University of Sydney, admirably situated about a mile from the
business portion of the city, not far from the Alfred Hospital, is the
first that was founded in the Southern Hemisphere. In its immediate
neighborhood are the affiliated colleges of St. Paul, St. Andrew, and
St. John, belonging respectively to the Church of England, the
Presbyterian denomination, and the Roman Catholics. Religious
instruction is given at these colleges, but not in the University. This
edifice is of Gothic architecture, built of freestone, and is situated
in spacious elevated grounds overlooking Victoria Park and the city,
being enclosed by a high iron fence. Within this enclosure, which is
several acres in extent, the land is terraced and ornamented with choice
trees and flowers. The facade of the main building is over four hundred
feet in length. On one side is a fine large stone building just
finished, which is designed for a Medical School; and on the other is a
spacious structure appropriated to the purpose of a museum, where we
found some thousands of classified objects of special interest as
antiquities. The object of the University is to afford a liberal
education to all orders and denominations without distinction. Graduates
rank in the same order as those of similar British home institutions.
This University was originally founded by Government, but from time to
time it has been the recipient of rich endowments from private sources,
until it has become nearly self-supporting. The great hall of this
building deserves particular mention. It is a remarkable apartment
finished elaborately in the Elizabethan style, and is lighted by ten
large stained-glass windows. In these were observed representations of
the sovereigns of England, from William the Conqueror to Queen Victoria.
Several of these windows are the gifts of wealthy patrons. The room is
about a hundred and fifty feet in length and fifty wide, with a ceiling
reaching to the roof, being at least seventy feet in height, finished in
Gothic style and forming a marvel of carpentry, carving and painting.
The citizens of Sydney may well be proud of this admirably appointed
University.
The Art Gallery is a low one-story iron building in the grounds of the
park known as the Domain, and it well repaid a visit of a few hours,
though it is at present only the nucleus of a future collection. It
contains some excellent modern pictures by popular artists, English and
French. One fine example by Louis Buvelot, an Australian artist, is full
of merit. There are many excellent models of classic sculpture,
including the group of the Laocoon. Some choice water-colors interested
us, and there were some meritorious pieces of sculpture by native
artists. One or two unselfish and devoted friends of art in Sydney have
given the most of their time and much of their pecuniary means for years
to promoting the interests of this collection, which under their
fostering care has already reached a high intrinsic value, and is full
of promise of future permanence and still greater excellence.
On the way back to our hotel from visiting the Art Gallery we stopped at
the Free Public Library, which contains over one hundred thousand
volumes arranged after a most admirable system. Not only do the
immediate residents of the city and its environs enjoy the advantages of
this collection, but the books are sent all over New South Wales, upon
application from local authorities, in boxes containing one hundred
volumes each, free of transportation. To secure this privilege in any
instance, it is only necessary for the town authorities to sign a bond,
making themselves responsible for the return of the books within a given
period, or agreeing to pay for any that are lost. This system of
distribution, we were told, worked admirably, involving no loss and no
more wear and tear than any other consistent use of the books, while the
benefits of the library are thus extended to half a million of people.
Another circulating library, known as Maddock's Select Library, was
found in George Street, after the style of Mudie's in London, or
Loring's in Boston, the object of which was to supply its patrons with
the best books and serial publications as soon as published. Besides the
periodical literature of the day, this establishment contains thousands
of standard books, which are constantly lent for a moderate sum to the
reading public. This library, we were told, has been established for
twenty years, and has really become a city institution. It is only upon
visiting places which do not possess such convenient literary resorts
that one can properly estimate their public value and importance.
Walking about the wharves in the early morning we one day saw and
awaited the mooring of the incoming boat from Parametta. It was crowded
with merchants' clerks, shop-keepers, and business people generally who
are employed in the city during the day, but who return to their
suburban homes to sleep. Among these were women from the shores of the
river and harbor, with baskets of cut-flowers for the Sydney market.
They were all neatly dressed, bright-looking girls and women, as rosy as
their lovely wares. Some of them had two long light frames of wire which
they carried in each hand, and in the openings of which were double
rows of flowers, enabling each girl to carry a score and more of
bouquets. These were glowing with morning freshness imparted by "some
sweet mystery of the dew," and were composed of camellias in three or
four colors, lilies of the valley, blue violets, and tea-roses, with
sheltering borders of maiden's-hair fern and other varieties of green.
All these were of out-door growth. Truly, flowers are appreciated,
cultivated, and loved all over the world; even here in Eldorado they
delight the eye with their beauty and the senses with their fragrance.
A brief day devoted to a trip from Sydney to the town of Parametta will
well repay the visitor; and to vary the scene one should go thither by
steamboat and return by the Sydney and Bathurst Railroad. This excursion
gives one a better idea of the harbor in detail than can be acquired in
any other manner. The comfortable little passenger-boat skirts the shore
and winds among the small islands, stopping at many of them to land or
to take up passengers. These islands are clotted with villas and
cottages, each having a two-story veranda, generally decked with vines,
and all overlooking the bay. The boat passes under a picturesque iron
bridge painted white, which crosses an arm of the sea. Skilled oarsmen
are constantly pulling up and down the Parametta River in their long,
pointed, egg-shell boats, for here is the famous boat-race course.
Verdant and well-wooded lawns of exquisite green sweep grandly down to
the water's edge. Orange and lemon trees, with here and there a group
of bananas and other tropical plants, bend gracefully over the tide. Now
and again the Australian ivy beautifies the shore, creeping over the
quaint little cottages and bursting out at times in clouds of yellow
blossoms on rocky promontories and gently swelling knolls. One
recognizes also the scarlet nasturtium and beds of soft blue violets
intermingling with fragrant jonquils. The lily of the valley, forgetting
that it is winter here, opens its bell-like blossom of snowy-white and
fills the whole air with dainty sweetness. The green and striped aloe
grows wild in clusters affording variety and beauty of effect to all
around. There were here and there clusters also of the yellow-leaved
wattle, producing by its foliage almost the exact effect of blossoms;
and as the river is ascended, an abundance of the water-loving mangrove
is seen bordering the banks, like willows in New England. And if one
turns for a moment from the enchantment near at hand, far away over the
plains and undulating country, mingling with the very clouds, are seen
the Blue Mountains. All far-away mountains present an aspect of blue,
but those of New South Wales are indeed cerulean.
A quiet aspect of stupid respectability, if we may be permitted the
term, environed the town of Parametta. It is a dull place, and fully
merits its expressive nickname of Sleepy Hollow. One is half inclined to
look for a coating of blue mould over the streets and houses. While
driving in the neighborhood, where everything seemed so purely English,
one felt the sight of the many orange-trees in full bearing, or the
flitting about of small paroquets, to be a sort of incongruity. The
early colonists, as we were told, tried to raise wheat hereabout, but
the soil was ill adapted to that cereal, though for raising oranges and
semi-tropical fruits Parametta has since become quite famous.
The town is just fifteen miles from Sydney, and has in its environs some
beautiful drives. Rocky Hall, the residence of a hospitable and wealthy
citizen, not far from the town of Parametta, contains in its spacious
grounds an orchard with a marvellous variety of growing fruits. The
proprietor, Mr. James Pye, is good authority on all subjects relating to
horticulture. The salubrious character of the climate has enabled this
gentleman to produce in abundance thriving specimens of nearly every
known fruit either tropical or hardy, added to which he has a large and
choice variety of flowers.
We are reminded in this connection of one of the pleasantest drives in
Sydney, not to be forgotten by the visiting stranger,--that along the
shores of Port Jackson. Here, within a few minutes' walk of the heart of
a populous city, we have rippling waters, waving foliage, frequent
gardens, vine-clad cottages, a yellow pebbly shore, and a bay full of
maritime beauties,--all combining to form a lovely panorama full of
local color and of infinite variety.
But even the beautiful aspect of Sydney harbor has its drawbacks. With
a single oarsman we crossed the bay from Port Jackson shore, and as we
glided quietly over the water and looked down into the depths alongside,
we saw more than one hideous man-eating shark of the dreaded white
species, stealthily in search of human prey. Though they feed on other
fish, the white sharks seem to prefer human flesh to all other, and will
remain patiently for days at a time in the same spot, watching for a
chance to satisfy this terrible appetite. Sad accidents from this source
are not infrequent, two young lads from an overturned boat having been
seized and eaten by these voracious creatures just one week previous to
our arrival in Sydney. The instance here referred to was particularly
afflicting as we heard it described. The father of one of the boys was
the horrified witness of the scene, without being able to render his son
the least assistance.
The sharks which frequent the coast of Norway, the catching of which
forms a regular industry there, are what are termed the mackerel shark,
because they feed mostly upon that fish. The size of this kind averages
from six to eight feet in length; but those which frequent the coast of
Australia will measure from ten to twelve feet, and have enormous mouths
furnished with four or five rows of long sharp teeth. They are well
called the tigers of the sea.