Station Life in New Zealand | Page 5

fault, I might object to the deep gutters on each side of the
road; after a shower of rain they are raging torrents for a short time,
through which you are obliged to splash without regard to the muddy
consequences; and even when they are dry, they entail sudden and
prodigious jolts. There are plenty of Hansoms and all sorts of other
conveyances, but I gave F--- no peace until he took me for a drive in a
vehicle which was quite new to me--a sort of light car with a canopy
and curtains, holding four, two on each seat, _dos-a-dos_, and called a
"jingle,"--of American parentage, I fancy. One drive in this carriage
was quite enough, however, and I contented myself with Hansoms
afterwards; but walking is really more enjoyable than anything else,
after having been so long cooped up on board ship.
We admired the fine statue, at the top of Collins Street, to the memory
of the two most famous of Australian explorers, Burke and Wills, and
made many visits to the Museum, and the glorious Free Library; we
also went all over the Houses of Legislature--very new and grand. But
you must not despise me if I confess to having enjoyed the shops
exceedingly: it was so unlike a jeweller's shop in England to see on the

counter gold in its raw state, in nuggets and dust and flakes; in this
stage of its existence it certainly deserves its name of "filthy lucre," for
it is often only half washed. There were quantities of emus' eggs in the
silversmiths' shops, mounted in every conceivable way as cups and
vases, and even as work-boxes: some designs consisted of three or five
eggs grouped together as a centre-piece. I cannot honestly say I
admired any of them; they were generally too elaborate, comprising
often a native (spear in hand), a kangaroo, palms, ferns, cockatoos, and
sometimes an emu or two in addition, as a pedestal--all this in frosted
silver or gold. I was given a pair of these eggs before leaving England:
they were mounted in London as little flower-vases in a setting
consisting only of a few bulrushes and leaves, yet far better than any of
these florid designs; but he emu-eggs are very popular in Sydney or
Melbourne, and I am told sell rapidly to people going home, who take
them as a memento of their Australian life, and probably think that the
greater the number of reminiscences suggested by the ornament the
more satisfactory it is as a purchase.
I must finish my letter by a description of a dinner-party which about a
dozen of our fellow-passengers joined with us in giving our dear old
captain before we all separated. Whilst we were on board, it very often
happened that the food was not very choice or good: at all events we
used sometimes to grumble at it, and we generally wound up our
lamentations by agreeing that when we reached Melbourne we would
have a good dinner together. Looking back on it, I must say I think we
were all rather greedy, but we tried to give a better colouring to our
gourmandism by inviting the captain, who was universally popular, and
by making it as elegant and pretty a repast as possible. Three or four of
the gentlemen formed themselves into a committee, and they must
really have worked very hard; at all events they collected everything
rare and strange in the way of fish, flesh, and fowl peculiar to Australia,
the arrangement of the table was charming, and the delicacies were all
cooked and served to perfection. The ladies' tastes were considered in
the profusion of flowers, and we each found an exquisite bouquet by
our plate. I cannot possibly give you a minute account of the whole
menu; in fact, as it is, I feel rather like Froissart, who, after chronicling
a long list of sumptuous dishes, is not ashamed to confess, "Of all

which good things I, the chronicler of this narration, did partake!" The
soups comprised kangaroo-tail--a clear soup not unlike ox-tail, but with
a flavour of game. I wish I could recollect the names of the fish: the
fresh-water ones came a long distance by rail from the river Murray,
but were excellent nevertheless. The last thing which I can remember
tasting (for one really could do little else) was a most exquisite morsel
of pigeon--more like a quail than anything else in flavour. I am not a
judge of wine, as you may imagine, therefore it is no unkindness to the
owners of the beautiful vineyards which we saw the other day, to say
that I do not like the Australian wines. Some of the gentlemen
pronounced them to be excellent, especially the equivalent to Sauterne,
which has a