AS may be supposed, I was not sorry to leave the vessel, but very glad again to see my father and mother, and brothers and sister. I am quite certain that I had not improved in appearance, and that thin as I was when I went away, I was thinner on my return. I had gained in experience, and my adventures, both on land and sea, had taught me a life-long lesson. Though I had not been much troubled with sea-sickness I was heartily sick of the sea, or of seafaring life, and intended in future to be content with anything on shore rather than life on the rolling wave. I could duly appreciate what my father had often said, but which I did not before fall in with, namely, that he "would not send a dog of his to sea." It is well that a seafaring life, with all its hardships and privations, has a charm for some, or we should, have no sailors to navigate our ships.

      On my return from Launceston and Sydney I was informed of the death of the Surveyor-General, Colonel Light, and that his funeral had been an imposing spectacle. Though not at the funeral I was present at the removal of the leaden coffin, containing his remains, from the West Terrace Cemetery to their last resting-place under the monument erected to his memory in Light Square. It was generally considered that though this gentleman did not meet with any accident to cause his early death, he came to an untimely end mainly through the worry and annoyance of those who wanted to have the capital of the Colony in some other locality. After years, however, proved the soundness of his judgment in the selection he had made; and had he lived a little [45] longer he would have received some of the well-merited honor that was afterwards bestowed upon his memory.

      I found that during my absence the shop in Hindley Street had been doing a good business, and that the provision branch had been largely developed. As butter was scarce and dear, some casks of dripping were purchased from the cooks of emigrant vessels, and this, which my mother melted and clarified, sold well as a substitute for butter. She made one investment, which, though it turned out profitable, was a very disagreeable one to us all. A small vessel had taken a turn round the coast and adjacent islands, and had collected thousands of mutton-birds' eggs; and the entire cargo was purchased for our establishment. The separating of the good from the bad in this case was an operation which few would like to undertake, but it had to be done; and all the members of the family had to take a share of the disagreeable work. I feel sure that we all sincerely hoped we would not have to go through another operation of this kind. As. Christmas was coming, and the supply of hens' and ducks' eggs was totally inadequate for the requirements of the trade, this importation largely assisted to meet the wants of housewives and others.

      After a few months' residence at the wooden shanty, we removed to a much better house and shop near the Club House in Hindley Street, my mother still keeping to some extent to the provision line. Among other edibles she found that the spiced beef which she prepared was much relished, and there was a good demand for it. At the rear of the shop was a bakehouse, and here Mr. Selth made small goods, cooked dinners, etc. The baking business was extended to Rundle Street, and as there was a bakehouse, I was stationed at the branch establishment to cook dinners and do what I could in the small goods line. I had picked up a little knowledge at the head-quarters in Hindley Street, and was able to make Bath cakes, rocks, brandy-snaps, ginger nuts, lollies, etc. This branch was not a success, but probably with an abler hand at the helm it might have prospered.

      For a short time I tried my hand at selling fruit, of which there was not a large supply at this early period. Cape gooseberries, tomatoes, water and sweet melons, and figs were among the first that were grown; and the supply being limited, I could scarcely expect to do a large business. The shop was situated in Rundle Street, somewhere about where Messrs. E. S. Wigg & Son's premises now stand; and whatever fault there may have been on the part of the salesman, there could be none as [46] regards the situation. It was about Easter-tide, and I laid in a large stock of Turkey figs, which I purchased at Bailey's Garden; and I believe the very tree from which they were gathered is now in my back yard (the largest I have seen in the colony). I considered at that time that it was the right thing to close the shop on Good Friday, and when I surveyed my stock next day I found the figs so mouldy that they were unsaleable. This was a serious loss, and other losses, together with the high rent, led to the closing of the establishment.

      Among other miscellaneous undertakings, my father entered in a small way into the business of land surveying, land agent, auctioneering, etc. I sometimes took part in the surveying business by holding the chain for him; and on one occasion he actually placed me in possession of a place as bailiff, in a case of distress for rent. The place was none other than the Theatre on North Terrace, the first of the kind, so far as I know, in the Colony. Mr. Buckingham was the lessee, or manager, or both; and I suppose the public did not accord him sufficient support in his attempt to provide for their entertainment. The building was of wood, but as far as I recollect the floor of the pit was of mother earth; and in this department there were some forms or benches. The artist had made the interior decorations fairly presentable by candle-light, but with the light of day the whole affair had a very unimposing appearance. For a day or two, like Robinson Crusoe, I was "monarch of all I surveyed," but I was not at all sorry to be relieved of my important duties. How the matter was settled with the landlord did not in the least concern me, and as I was not a patron of the stage, the closing of the Theatre under such unfavorable circumstances did not cause me the slightest regret.

      Deprived of this source of amusement; I suppose the public found some compensation in attending the night auction that was held in Hindley Street, where the facetious John Bentham Neales entertained them with offering all kinds of merchandise, surplus ships' stores, rifles, pistols, allotments of land, etc. This knight of the hammer had purchased a section of land, which was laid out into about a thousand small allotments; and it was then, as now, known as the township of Islington. A number of these town allotments found purchasers at the night auction, and as there was something like a land boom on, the more sanguine of the new-comers considered this was a good investment. Not far from Islington my father laid out and surveyed a block of land belonging to Mr. John Bowden, and, after selling some of these, [47] he purchased the unsold allotments. Many years afterwards there was not only the difficulty of finding out where the land was, but where the purchasers were, some of them having left the Colony. I persevered, however, and at length, after due notice, bought the interest of those who could produce their titles; and then brought the land under the Real Property Act.

      A new Theatre called the "Queen's" was opened in January, 1841, with Mr. J. Lazar as Manager, and Mr. Buckingham in charge of the dresses and decorations. As I acted a part in this place quite different to the part assigned me in the former, I shall make a brief reference to it further on. The Queen's Theatre was situated in Gilles Arcade, off Currie Street; was erected by Mr. E. Solomon; and was an imposing building. It is rather remarkable that the Jews took such a leading part in the affairs of the City at this early period. There was not only Mr. Solomon, but Mr. Lazar, Mr. Lazarus, Mr. Levi, and others of that fraternity.

      In the early part of 1840 my services were required to take charge of a potato-stall in the first Adelaide Market, which was situated at the corner of Rundle Street and Gawler Place, somewhere in the locality of Birks' chemists' shop. Though not of great extent, the shops were well built of brick, and for a time the Market was well patronised; but I suppose the commercial ruin that overtook the colony in 1841 caused a great falling-off. In course of time the Market had to give place to other buildings which were erected on its site; and for many years afterwards Adelaide was without a market of any kind.

      I took another turn at the bread trade after I had done with selling potatoes, this second occasion being on a much larger scale than the trade I opened up in Emigration Square. Mr. John Stuckey had commenced business as a baker in Rundle Street, on the acre the north-west corner of which is known as "Waterhouse's Corner." At this corner there stood for years after a noble gum tree, forming an agreeable shade in summer; a few yards further east was the baker's shop, and at the rear of the acre the stables, etc. At this early period bread was delivered by means of a horse and cart in Adelaide and to the scattered dwelling-places around. Mr. Stuckey was an enterprising tradesman, and as horses were not easily procurable in the Colony he imported two good animals from the neighboring Colony, one of which cost him £60. He had a nephew who delivered the bread, but this young man wanted some employment of a more exciting nature than driving a bread-cart. Having made up his [48] mind to go to 'New Zealand to face, and, if need be, to fight the Maories, he gave his uncle notice that he intended to leave. I accepted the vacant billet, and the young gentleman was to go round with me and show me where to find the customers. This he agreed to do, but if he had given me any idea of the kind of "lark" he was going to have with me I should certainly have declined to accompany him. We were bound for Hindmarsh, and in those early days people drove about very much where they pleased. Up and down the gullies we went, helter-skelter, without any brakes; and when a favorable opportunity presented itself, my guide drove the cart over a stack of wood, and over it went; he was lying under the cart, while I was thrown clear of it. Sam, who had the cart on his back, was roaring with laughter; but though I only received a shaking, I considered it altogether too serious a matter for a joke. The bread was lying all about, and after the cart was lifted we gathered up ourselves and then gathered up the bread. The thing was done so well, and with so much skill, that there was not much damage done to the cart, to the horse, or to ourselves; or perhaps I ought to say that a kind Providence was watching over us to prevent any serious or fatal consequences. After all it may have been that Sam had a grudge against his uncle, and was going to show his displeasure by this means. After this one of the horses bolted away from me on two occasions as I was delivering bread, and "Jack," for such was his name, made his way, once from the top of Hindley Street and once from North Adelaide, right for the stable, without doing any harm. This "Jack" was an iron-grey, of a self-willed disposition: the other was a nice bay of a more gentle nature. This reminds me of the answer a bush missionary, Mr. Bewkers, once gave Mr. Angas, on being asked if be was accustomed to horses, and knew bow to manage them. Mr. B. replied at once, with a knowing smile on his face, "Oh, yes, sir, provided their education has not been neglected."

      Besides Hindmarsh my round extended to North Adelaide and Kensington; Kent Town, Norwood, and Stepney not being in existence at that time. Between the East Park Lands and Kensington there was a forest of wattle trees, the only house being the residence of Dr. Kent, built of wood. Kent Town was named after the Doctor, who owned the section afterwards laid out as a township, and on part of the land he erected a steam flourmill in 1840, near to where the Kent Town Brewery now stands. Another flourmill was erected at an early period by the South Australian Company, near to the Company's Bridge on the [49] Hackney Road. Mr. Bailey, who had a nursery near Hackney, London, laid out a nursery at a very early period in the history of the Colony, which was known as Bailey's Garden; and he added the name "Hackney," by which the locality is now known.

      After being engaged for a few weeks in the delivery of bread I was taken unwell, and had to relinquish the work for a time. I had previously had an attack of intermittent or colonial fever, and I suppose this was really a relapse. While I was laid up, or rather down, the flour market was in a very unsatisfactory state; and the supply, such as it was, was limited. It had to be imported from America and other places, and some of it was scarcely fit for human consumption. That from America was brought in barrels--some of it stale and so matted together that it had to be pounded up and passed through a sieve. This was not the most objectionable feature, as in some cases the weevils had found their way into the barrels or had bred there. When it did not smell very sweet, my mother used to make it into cakes, putting some sugar and spice into it to make it more palatable. After a time there came over from Van Diemen's Land a small shipment of fine flour, which Mr. Stuckey purchased, giving £100 per ton for the ten tons, or £1,000 for the lot. As I was somewhat better, a pony was sent to take me to the shop, and as I knew the customers, I had the honor of taking out the first load of the bread made from this fine flour. The price was 1s. per lb., 2s. the 2-lb. loaf, and 4s. the 4-lb. loaf; and as I called at the various places, I held up the article as a sight worth seeing, even if the people could not afford to purchase. I did not get up my strength very rapidly, and had again to retire for a time from regular employment.

      My next situation was in a general store in King William Street kept by Mrs. Watts, whose husband was a bricklayer, and a first-class workman in that line. They came out in the Asia, and having no family they made plenty of money; and took care of what they made. The wife made and cleaned straw bonnets, and supervised the store, in which I not only served customers but did a little in the manufacturing line. I made treacle, by boiling-down dark sugar; and made yeast to raise bread by a process of fermentation. A number of fowls were kept, and the eggs they laid were a decided source of profit and added to the trade of the store. After a time Mr. Watts purchased a pony and cart, which added to his income; and finding there was a demand for vehicles on hire, he kept on buying horses and traps till he had quite an extensive establishment. The locality was [50] the acre at the corner of King William and Currie Streets, where the Bank of Adelaide and adjoining offices now stand. Mr. Watts was not only the possessor of this valuable acre in Adelaide, but purchased other properties in the suburbs; and eventually retired from business and returned to England.

      Finding that Messrs. Flett & Linklater were in want of an assistant, I applied for and obtained the situation, which I considered was an advance on the store in King William Street. This establishment, which was one of the best in Adelaide, was situated on the north side of Hindley Street, not far from Morphett Street; and the shop having two windows, one was devoted to drapery and clothing, and the other to grocery. Here I was to sleep on the premises, with one of the partners, the two taking it in turns week about. The reason for this arrangement was that, in a shop they occupied in Currie Street, built of wood, they had been robbed of £40 or £50 worth of cloth; and they determined that they would not run the risk of another loss of this kind. About this time the colony was favored (?) with several visitors from Van Diemen's Land, some of whom had served their apprenticeship in the old country to thieving, and they thought there was more scope for their talents in South Australia than in the place where they were so well known. It was supposed that one or more of these clever scoundrels took out a panel from the shop in Currie Street and by this means obtained unlawful possession of the cloth.

      My duties in Hindley Street were of a varied character, such as sweeping out the shop, cleaning windows, grinding pepper, roasting and grinding coffee, serving customers, etc. My employers resided in a row of houses near Gouger Street, known as "Craigie's Buildings," in front of which was a well for the use of the householders. Our meals were brought to the shop, and were supplied week about by the wives of the partners; in fact the whole arrangement was as perfect and equitable as it could well be under the circumstances. The Sundays were spent alternately with the two families, and I went to the same kirk as they both attended, which was a wooden building in Angas Street, used as a schoolroom during the week and as a place of worship on Lord's-days. Here the Rev. Ralph Drummond (the first Presbyterian minister in the colony) officiated in the dual capacity of minister and schoolmaster, and I rather liked his ministrations, though the services appeared strange to me who had always been accustomed to the Church of England Liturgy. [51]

      After closing the shop in the evening we made up our beds on the two counters, and as these were rather narrow I am surprised that we did not roll off occasionally; but I do not think either of us had a fall. I rather preferred the week when it was Mr. Linklater's turn to sleep at the shop, as he entertained me with stories of his adventures in the Orkney Islands. Mr. Flett was like a father to me, and gave me some excellent fatherly advice; among other things he strongly advised me never to smoke, adding that he would give very much if he could give up the practice. Such, however, is the perversity of human nature that, notwithstanding his kind remonstrances, I actually made the attempt; and have only been thankful once, and that is ever since, that I was unsuccessful. I had sufficient smoke when I was roasting coffee to satisfy any reasonable person, having to sit beside the cylinder, with an open fire, to turn the handle till the coffee was properly roasted. Like Father Flett, I have at various times admonished boys and young people not to contract the habit of smoking--either cigarettes, cigars, or pipes--assuring them that, if their Creator ever intended them to smoke, He would have provided a chimney at the top of their heads to carry off the smoke. I firmly believe that, so far as young people are concerned, the practice of smoking is very pernicious, and that, in the case of boys, it stunts their growth and frequently gives them an emaciated appearance.

      During the latter part of the time I was at Flett and Linklater's I sometimes walked down to the Port, after the shop was closed, to see my parents, who had removed there. It was rather a long and lonely walk, and when I was nearing home I occasionally found that the tide was so high that I had to walk a considerable distance through water, at places up to my waist. At this time many of the inhabitants of the Port had some novel experiences during extraordinary high tides. One of these in particular occurred at the opening of St. Paul's Church. I happened to be at the Port that Sunday, when there was one of these high tides; and instead of attending the service, I was watching the rising waters. To provide for such a contingency a raised path or embankment was made, reaching from the North Parade to the Church; and when the congregation assembled there was no sign of a flood. As was usual on these occasions, there was a strong wind from the west, and, as it was cold, the front door was closed during the service. I watched the water rising higher and higher, until it covered the embankment; and by the time the service was over it was lost entirely to view. [52] Imagine the surprise of the people when the door was opened at finding themselves surrounded by water, and with no immediate prospect of being able to reach their homes. Capt. Lipson, the Harbor-master, kindly helped the congregation out of this difficulty by sending boats to enable them to reach their habitations.

      One Sunday while I was at the Port I witnessed a very exciting scene which took place on the McLaren Wharf. A French vessel called the Ville de Bordeaux had called at Port Adelaide, and the Collector of Customs, Mr. (afterwards Sir) R. R. Torrens, did not find her papers altogether satisfactory. While her case was under consideration the vessel sailed, which confirmed the suspicion that all was not quite right. A small steamer, the Courier, had arrived from England a short time previously, and her services were called into requisition to give chase to the absconder. It was a decided case of emergency, and as a sufficient supply of coal was not available, shingles, palings, and any wood that was on the wharf, were placed on board to do duty as fuel. With a body of police, armed to the teeth, and the redoubtable Collector, the little steamer went down the Gulf in search of the suspicious stranger; and having found her, she was brought back. This gallant capture cost the Government a few thousands of pounds, which had to be paid to the owners for what was deemed an illegal seizure; but what was that compared with the display of bravery that it called forth? After lying for some time in the stream at the Port, the vessel was used as a light-ship, to guard mariners against the dangers that were in the vicinity of the outer anchorage.

      I shall now go back in my narrative to give some particulars of the opening of the New Port, and the removal of my parents to that place. Wednesday, October 14, 1840, was a gala-day in South Australia; and those who went to the opening of its chief harbor are not likely to forget it. The day began most auspiciously, with a clear sky, and the sun shining down with sufficient warmth to make an outing pleasant. Every available vehicle and every available horse was called into requisition; and, it might be added, bullocks and drays into the bargain. The conveyances, numbering 750, ranged from a pony-cart to the "Young Queen" (the first coach of which the Colony could boast); and besides these there were some 500 or 600 equestrians. My father secured two traps for this important occasion--one a covered two-wheeler, and the other a wagon with two horses, hired from Mr. Rogers, of "Tusmore," Greenhill Road. The two-wheeler was to convey passengers, and the wagon was to [53] carry a cask of water and provisions, for sale or return. I was in the latter, and I rather think I was entrusted with the sale of the eatables and drinkables; but most of the people, not knowing that their wants would be supplied for a consideration, took their own provisions with them. I feel quite sure that from a pecuniary point of view this catering business was not a successful or profitable one. The South Australian Company, to whom it might be said the property belonged, had spent large sums of money in constructing the causeway over the swamp from near Alberton to the Port, in making the McLaren Wharf, and in erecting substantial warehouses thereon. If I remember rightly, the barque Guiana, of which Capt. Duff was commander, was the vessel that was to have the honor of first unloading some cargo on the wharf. The Governor (Col. Gawler) took a leading part in the opening ceremony, which was followed by a banquets in the new warehouse. As may be supposed, there was plenty of eating, and drinking, and speechifying. Those at the banquet and those who were not, all appeared to enjoy the privilege of being present on this important occasion.

      As the day wore on, some ominous clouds began to arise in the west, and a sudden change of wind about three or four o'clock in the afternoon, threatened to spoil the day's enjoyment The wind increased, and preparations were made for the return, journey; but as the coach "Young Queen," which was in the van, proved too heavy for the newly-made road, the highway was blocked for a considerable time. Some of the conveyances attempted to get through under the sheds on the Queen's Wharf, and those without covers succeeded; but the trap driven by my father was stopped. I returned to town in the wagon, and as we drove along the causeway, with the water on each side of us, the sight was as novel and sensational as could well be imagined. Parasols, umbrellas, hats and bonnets, were carried by the gusts of wind far and wide; and as it was useless to attempt to regain possession of them, the drivers of the vehicles proceeded on their way as though beating a retreat from some powerful enemy. It was well that the Port Road was a very wide one, though there were disadvantages on account of its width. No part of it was macadamised, and as one line of traffic was worn into holes, drivers struck out into another one, till that was in a similar condition; therefore in course of time a strong westerly "brickfielder" had command of a very wide surface. On the occasion referred to the clouds of dust were such as only to allow a glimpse now and again of the vehicles era route. It was a [54] marvel to me, and probably to many more, that there were so few accidents, especially as the River Torrens had to be crossed without any bridge. There was a cutting leading down to the ford on the river, and it was no easy matter after dark, without any lamps as helps or guides, to see dust where the cutting was. The contrast between the setting-out and the return on this memorable day, was as great as could be imagined or described.

      The "brickfielders," as they were called, were a terror to the citizens of Adelaide in the early days of the Colony; and presented a scene not easily described. They generally occurred when a fierce hot wind had been blowing in the early part of the day, followed all of a sudden by a change of wind from the west, just as cool as it had previously been hot. Coming up the Port Road with increasing power and velocity, the wind raised the dust in clouds reaching high up into the heavens, darkening the sky, and causing the sun to appear like a ball of fire. This was a signal to close doors and windows and all openings, to keep out the dust as much as possible; but with all these precautions it would penetrate into most of the shops and dwellings. I remember one Sunday, when I was a teacher in Trinity Sunday-school, a "brickfielder" came up, and as the place had a broad-paling roof without any ceiling, the dust came down so thickly that it covered the books in use, and the school had to be closed. At times it was an awfully grand sight to see the face of the Mount Lofty range of hills in a blaze, and besides increasing the temperature the smoke caused a haze as dense as the "brickfielder."

      The cause of the removal of my parents from the City to the Port seemed to be somewhat on this wise:--My father leased a piece of land in Hindley Street, 50 feet frontage, at £1 per foot per annum; and on this he erected a substantial two-storey brick building, which cost about £500. His health failing him, he appears to have concluded that a residence at the seaside would prove beneficial; and as a person from Van Diemen's Land required large business premises, the shop and dwelling was let to him. This man brought with him a large quantity of furniture, etc., and evidently intended to do a fine business; but he did what he did in a very bad way. Disposing of the Hindley Street premises in this way for a time, my father leased some land on the North Parade, Port Adelaide, where he erected two tenements, one of wood and one of canvas. The former consisted of two rooms for living purposes, and the other was for business, having a fireplace at the back to serve as a kitchen. Like most other places at the Port, they were built on piles, so that the high tides [55] could pass under; but sometimes the water would take entire possession of the floors. On these occasions anything likely to be damaged by sea-water was placed on the tables and bedsteads; and the inmates seated themselves likewise on anything that would raise them above high water. I have seen the water go right through the house, and boats coming up to the front door for persons in them to make purchases. Moveables inside might be kept from floating away, but those outside would be carried off, and find their way, with the retreating tide, out to sea. Timber, casks, boxes, etc, were subject to tidal influences; and I remember groping about after dark for anything that I could find round about our dwelling. A cat and her kittens went on a voyage in a box, and I have no doubt many losses of fowls and other living creatures were sustained. The great difficulty was that we could not tell just how high the water would rise, so as to secure anything we considered was beyond its reach. Our place was next to a public-house, and when the sailors were having a dance as if on the deck of their vessel, the noise, with only a boarded partition between us, and the shaking of the floor, was an intolerable nuisance. A hole had been excavated at the rear of the public-house for a cellar, and when the tide receded it was left full of water, into which a little girl fell on one occasion, but I rescued her from her perilous position.

      The communication between the Port and the City was effected mainly by means of spring-carts, with two and sometimes three horses, driven tandem-fashion. These carts were provided with three seats, supposed to hold four persons on each; and the jolting, when heavily laden, can easily be imagined. I have frequently done the journey on foot, and many others did the same--not only to save expense, but because the vehicular accommodation was limited. I have known my mother, who was a weakly woman, ride to town, do her business there, and then walk down to the Port; but she had an indomitable spirit, which often taxed her physical powers to the very utmost. It has been truly said that people do not know what they can do till they try; at the same time it is not wise "to attempt impossibilities." [56]

[CLACE 45-56]