I was enlisted as a collector for the school fund, and went round soliciting subscriptions; but I found it up-hill work. My district lay in the suburbs, and I was by no means successful. A good many of those I called upon were Ranters; and I suspect that the last sensation preacher had carried off what otherwise might have fallen to my share. I was tolerably successful with the diggers working at their claims. At least they always gave me a civil answer. One of them said, "Well, if our washing turns out well on Saturday, you shall have five shillings." And the washing must have turned out well, for on Saturday evening the digger honestly brought me the sum he had named.
Further to help the fund, a fête was held in the open air, and an entertainment was given by amateurs in the Prince of Wales's Theatre,—for our little town also boasts of its theatre. The fête was held on Easter Monday, which was kept as a holiday; and it commenced with a grand procession of Odd Fellows, Foresters, German Verein, Rechabites, and other clubs, all in their Sunday clothes, and many of them wearing very gorgeous scarfs. The German band headed the procession, which proceeded towards the paddock at MacCullum's Creek used on such festive occasions. There all the contrivances usually adopted for extracting money from the pockets of the visitors were in full operation. There was a bazaar, in which all manner of useless things were offered for sale; together with raffles, bowls, croquet, dancing, shooting at the eagle, tilting at the ring, and all sorts of sports; a small sum being paid on entry. I took up with a forlorn Aunt Sally, standing idle without customers, and by dint of sedulous efforts, contrived to gather about a pound in an hour and a half. All did their best. And thus a pleasant day was spent, and a good round sum of money was collected for the fund.
The grand miscellaneous entertainment was also a complete success. The theatre was filled with a highly-respectable audience, including many gaily-dressed ladies, and all the belles of Majorca and the neighbourhood. Indeed I wondered where they could all come from. The performances excited the greater interest, as the whole of them were by amateurs, well known in the place. The songs went off well; and several of them were encored. After the concert, the seats were cleared away, and the entertainment wound up with the usual dance. And thus did we each endeavour to do our share of pleasant labour for the benefit of the common school.
The reading-room of the Mechanics' Institute is always a source of entertainment when nothing else offers. The room is small but convenient, and it contains a fair collection of books. The Telegraph Office, the Post Office, Council Chamber, and Mechanics' Institute, all occupy one building,—not a very extensive one,—being only a one-storied wooden erection. One of the chief attractions of the reading-room is a collection of Colonial papers, with 'Punch,' 'The Illustrated News,' and the 'Irish Nation.' On Saturday nights, when the diggers wash up and come into town, the room is always well filled with readers. The members of the Committee are also very active in getting up entertainments and popular readings; and, in short, the Mechanics' Institute may be regarded as one of the most civilising institutions in the place.
But my time in Majorca was drawing to an end. One of the last public events in which I took part was attending the funeral of our town clerk, the first funeral I have ever had occasion to be present at. A long procession followed his remains to the cemetery. Almost all the men in the township attended, for the deceased was highly respected. The service was very solemn, held under the bright, clear, blue Australian sky. Poor old man! I knew him well. I had seen him so short a time ago in the hospital, where, three hours before he died, he gave me his blessing. He was then lying flushed, and in great pain. All that is over now. "Dust to dust, and ashes to ashes." The earth sounded as it fell upon his coffin; and now the good man sleeps in peace, leaving a blessed memory behind him.
I was now under orders for home! My health was completely re-established. I might have remained, and perhaps succeeded in the colony. As it was, I carried with me the best wishes of my employers. But I had no desire to pursue the career of bank-clerk further. I was learning but little, and had my own proper business to pursue. So I made arrangements for leaving Australia. Enough money had been remitted me from England, to enable me to return direct by first-class ship, leaving me free to choose my own route. As I might never have another opportunity of seeing that great new country the United States of America, the question occurred, whether I might not be able to proceed up the Pacific to San Francisco, viâ Honolulu, and cross America by the Atlantic and Pacific Railway. On inquiry, I found it would be practicable, but not by first-class. So I resolved to rough it a little, and proceed by that route second class, for which purpose my funds would be sufficient. I accordingly took my final leave of Majorca early in December—just as summer was reaching its height; and after spending three more pleasant weeks with my hospitable and kind friends in Melbourne, took my passage in the steamer for Sydney, and set sail the day after Christmas.
On looking over what I have above written about my life in Victoria, I feel how utterly inadequate it is to give the reader an idea of the country as a whole. All that I have done has merely been to write down my first impressions, unpremeditatedly and faithfully, of what I saw, and what I felt and did while there. Such a short residence in the colony, and such a limited experience as mine was, could not have enabled me—no matter what my faculty of observation, which is but moderate—to convey any adequate idea of the magnitude of the colony or its resources. To pretend to write an account of Victoria and Victorian life from the little I saw, were as absurd as it would be for a native-born Victorian, sixteen years old, to come over to England, live two years in a small country town, and then write a book of his travels, headed "England." And yet this is the way in which the Victorians complain, and with justice, that they are treated by English writers. Some eminent man arrives in the colony, spends a few weeks in it, perhaps rushes through it by railway, and hastens home to publish some contemptuous account of the people whom he does not really know, or some hasty if not fallacious description of the country which he has not really seen. I am sure that, however crude my description may be, Victorians will not be offended with what I have said of themselves and their noble colony; for, small though the sphere of my observation was, they will see that I have written merely to the extent of my knowledge, and have related, as faithfully as I was able, the circumstances that came within the range of my own admittedly limited, but actual experience of colonial life.