Town Life in Australia | Page 3

Melbourne I would
advise them at least to do the last part of their duty--express loudly and
generally their admiration at everything that is mentioned to them.
Whether they have seen it or not is, after all, their own affair.
In this respect a Professor at the Melbourne University, on a holiday
trip to New Zealand, has just told me an amusing anecdote, for the
literal truth of which he vouches. A couple of young Englishmen fresh
from Oxford came to Melbourne in the course of a trip round the world
to open up their minds! For fear of a libel suit I may at once say I am
not alluding to the Messrs. Chamberlain. They brought letters of
introduction to Professor S----, who proposed, according to the custom
of the place, to 'show them round.' 'Have you seen the Public Library?'
he began. 'No,' answered the Oxonian. Shall I take you over it?'
continued the Professor; 'it is one of the finest in the world, well worth
seeing; and we can kill two birds with one stone by seeing the Museum
and National Gallery at the same time.' 'Well, no, thanks,' was the reply;
'it's awfully good of you, we know; but I say, the fact is books are
books, all the world over, and pictures are pictures; and as for minerals,
I can't say we understand them--not in our line, you understand.'
The Professor now thought he would try them with something
out-of-doors, and proposed a walk to the Botanical Gardens, which was
met with 'Don't you think it's rather hot for a walk? Besides, to tell the
truth, one garden is very much like another.' 'But these are very large,'
persisted the Professor; 'not scientific gardens like Kew, but capital
places to walk and sit about in. There are a number of flowers there, too,
which you cannot see at home.' Oxonian No. 2, however, came to the
breach: 'We bought a lot of flowers at a shop in Collins Street yesterday,
and we are going to send a hamper of ferns home; so that if you won't
think it uncivil of us to refuse your kindness, we won't take up your
time by going so far.'
Although somewhat abashed, the Professor thought of several other
'lions' which they might like to see, but was invariably met with the
same polite refusal, till at last he gave it up as a bad job, and turned the
conversation to general subjects. They had taken up their hats, and were

saying good-bye. The Professor, who is a kind-hearted man, and was
really anxious to be of service to the two friends, felt quite vexed with
himself that he could do nothing more than ask them to dine. So, just as
they were parting with the usual mutual expressions of goodwill, he
asked in a despondent, almost prayerful tone: 'Are you quite sure there
is; nothing I can do for you? Pray make use of me if you can, and I
shall be only too delighted.' The reply was in a rather nervous voice
from the younger man, who blushed as he asked the favour: 'Do you
know anyone who has got a lawn-tennis court? We should so awfully
like to have a game.'
The Professor introduced them to the head and to some of the
undergraduates of the affiliated colleges close by, and heard very little
more of them till they came to dinner with him a fortnight later, the day
before they were to leave Melbourne. The conversation at dinner turned
of course upon what they had seen during their visit, with which they
declared themselves immensely pleased. But when asked as to the
things which had most impressed them, it came out that Sundays were
the only days they had gone out of the town; that they had not been to
see a public institution or building, except their bank and the theatres.
'Surely you can't have spent all your time at the club,' said the Professor,
'though there is a capital library there; and, by the way, did you ever
play tennis at Ormond College?' And then came the reply from both at
once. It turned out that they had been to Ormond College to play tennis
twice a day, except when they stopped lunch there. And then followed
a technical description of the college tennis-courts, the Australian play,
etc., etc.
But the cream of the story is not yet reached. The young men were to
leave the next day for Japan, and the Professor waxed enthusiastic over
the delights in store for them in that land of the morning. He quoted
anecdotes and passages from Miss Bird's book, and repeated more than
once that he envied them their trip. 'Well, yes, you know,' said the
eldest,