Two young men who had been shipmates with me in the Morning Star came into the hotel the next morning. Their name was Ring, and they were with their father, Mr. Herbert Ring, who had a contract to facilitate the shipping of goods at Kingston, as before that no ships could come in near the shore. I was pleased to see them. They are both in Adelaide now as sharebrokers. They brought their father to see me and it seemed like civilisation again. But I had not yet done with the mail-coach.
As the coach left Kingston every day, I determined to stop with the sick woman till the landlord's sister came home. Meanwhile the people about were negotiating with the landlord to get up a supper as they wished to celebrate the opening of a branch of some lodge. I think that the Messrs. Ring were the principal officials in that lodge. So when the housekeeper came I set to work and helped her prepare this bush "banquet." I did not know very much, but every little was a help, and they all said the supper was splendid.
Just in the middle of the preparations for supper a travelling dramatic company arrived and began to get ready to hold a performance that evening in the billiard-room. I never saw such a mixed lot of people together. I looked for the doctor, expecting to see a man in decent black clothes, but he was dressed in old, tattered garments, just like the poor shearers to whom he was attending. I understood the reason of this when I saw him staggering about. Be was a very clever man, but abandoned to drink.
The little black girl was a great help. She could fetch and carry for these poor men, who, I am afraid, were very much neglected. I saw a little of the country about Kingston and liked the look of the whole place very much. My stay at the hotel lasted from a Tuesday to the following Saturday, when the landlord drove me into Robe in his own waggonette. I had no bills to pay and received some remuneration for being so helpful. For years afterwards, if anybody who knew me stayed at the hotel, they heard kind things of me and brought me nice messages. Neither my trunk nor the steamboat had arrived, so I had to wait till the next Saturday at the Robe Hotel. The same people were there as when I went to Mr. Binney's. I felt just as if I were at home with them, for they were so interested in my experiences all through that year in the bush. I had enjoyed good health all the time I was away, and I arrived in Adelaide safe and well.
It was on a Sunday afternoon when I reached the Port, and my brother was on the dock waiting for me. Father and he were living at Hilton. They had a horse and trap, and my brother drove me to Hilton; but I was not many days at home, when I found that my father seemed in touch with some acquaintance I did not like; I felt outside of everything, and asked myself why I came back if there was nothing to come back for. I was out of sympathy with my surroundings, I learned that my father was about to get married again, and I felt as if I was not wanted. I could see that the old condition of things had changed. In any case, everything seemed hard for me, and I could not put matters right for other people. At best, there would be a muddle, and I thought if things came to an end quickly it would not be so hard to go. I had to go forward alone, I knew, and to face bitterness and desolation. When some one said, "I wonder you sent for your people," I thought that it did not matter whether or not I lived at home, for I could not skip out of their lives. Wherever they were they were my relations. Still, if there are no love-ties, that makes loneliness more solitary. There was no ill-will, but my brother said that he would not live with father and his new wife.
So we had to do something. I told my brother that I must have some work to do, and then we might manage some little business. What else could we do? It was either that or we would have to go and live in a top-garret somewhere. So we took a house with a shop attached in Rundle-street. It stood this side of the Tavistock Hotel, but it was pulled down many years ago. There is now a saddler's business there. I had it fixed up as tearooms, and my brother made furniture. In any case I had to face a new kind of life, and I had no right to grumble. When we were children I remembered the happy comradeship which always existed between my brother and myself, and I was glad to be alone with him. It was a splendid time and we did fairly well, and had something to give thanks for. I could not expect that happiness to continue, and when we had been there for some time I had a strong belief that all the rest would come right in time. It was a joy to feel that I was working for my brother. Such trivial incidents may not seem worth recording, but that was my only experience in business on my own account. Youth is full of hope, but I did not know what I hoped for. There was the present and the future to think about.
Just at that time a Scotch corps of volunteers were raised. It was the first in South Australia to wear the kilts. There was such merriment about this dressing every day. Mr. Buik had an ironmongers shop in Rundle-street, and he was the captain. My brother also became a kilted volunteer. The kilts were sent from Scotland partly made, and then altered so as to make a suitable fit. They looked nice, only the stockings were of some kind of checked tartan, with no shape or figure. I knew how to knit, so I knitted a pair of stockings for my brother, and set in the wool in different coloring and in diamond shape. They looked unlike the others, and they were made to fit. Mr. Buik came to me and asked me if I would do a hundred pairs. I was so surprised, that I thought I would not knit any more stockings which could be seen. In the Foot Police at that time there was a Scotchman who stood, so they said, over six feet in height; his name was Archie Dixon. He had his own kilts and knitted stockings, together with the bagpipes. He brought all the equipage with him from Scotland, and truly he did look a picture in the kilts. The past is, indeed, past, but it all comes back to me when I want it.
The news spread about that in a few months the Queen's son, the Sailor Prince, would visit Australia. I can trust my memory for that time. It can never be forgotten. As for the people, it is no exaggeration to say they were full of joy, as in some sort of way it appeared that this visit was to be made a pleasure for all. I seemed to have no plans in life except to see the Prince. In a few weeks the warship Galatea came in to port. It was a fearfully hot day, and the Scotch Volunteers, with Mr. Archie Dixon in the front playing the bagpipes, went all the way to the Port, with other volunteers as well, to meet Prince Alfred. The town was all one "festival." They marched in procession and came to the city. In their route they marched around the spot where the new Post-Office now is. I had a nice seat on some of the old buildings in King William-street. The men who wore the kilts must have suffered from the heat. However, there was the Queen's son, bowing and looking so distinguished as he passed along to Government House. Sir Dominick Daly was there, too. There was no electricity then, but the splendor of the gaslight in the night-time will not easily be forgotten, nor the vast crowds who gathered there.
The drawback all this gaiety had for us was that we had not much capital. I did not want anything in the way of stock, but my brother's work was different, for to make it he needed materials; worse still, he let furniture go on credit, not realising enough to meet his debts. On turning back to that time my thoughts were not glad. I could not be gay, for I could see no brightness in the future. It was said by some that my acts and life showed great self-denial, but if it did it did not bring me any of the inward satisfaction which is said to come from such deeds. I thought I must try and get a new place, for I could see that my brother was seriously in love with a young woman. Then came the final decision, and I went and saw Mr. J. N. Hines, at Parliament House, with the hope of getting some employment daily, as he had so much catering to do while the Prince was here and in other ways. I used to go to the Town Hall, and also help at Parliament House. My first employer, at No. 10, Rundle-street, had got married, or I should have liked to go back there. Having to be independent and to take care of myself for more than eleven years I had learnt to use my knowledge and be hopeful. I daresay there are plenty who will remember the stampede of that time. There was a sense of whirl during the whole time of that brilliant visit, and its influence was considerable with us so far as ways and means were concerned.
We both made up our minds not to get into debt, and we did not, but as matters went it might have been better to have gone to a situation at once. I could not take any particular kind of work, but I could help with most things generally. I can easily recall how little attempt there was to understand anything regarding cooking, and there were no men cooks in Adelaide then. The foundations of the Club House on North-terrace were being dug out while I was at No. 10, Rundle-street, and it was occupied when I came back from Moonta. A married couple had the management of the Club, and I got to know the manager through being at the Town Hall banquets and other places, so I went to help at the Club. The cooking was very crude. The manager had been a steward on board ship, and was not well up as a caterer. The work was not at all delicately done, and I did not like either the manager or the manageress. I did not stop long at the only club that was then in Adelaide. Many years have rolled away since then. The affairs of myself and brother were disposed in such a way that I had many doubts as to what I should do; but youth is delightful while it lasts.