A Colonial Reformer, Vol. 1 (of 3)Boldrewood, Rolf
History
A Colonial Reformer, Vol. 1 (of 3)
Boldrewood, Rolf
Australia -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
‘Only, this strikes me, that if you went on talking there in your
dissatisfied strain, the acute common people would be certain that you
had some reason of your own for dissuading them from embarking, and, so
thinking, would pour in by crowds.’
‘Likely enough,’ sneered the _avocat pour le diable_. ‘There are only
two sets of people in this rascally country—rogues and fools.’
‘And to which division of society do I belong, may I ask?’ inquired
Ernest, rather amused at the uncompromising nature of the denunciation.
‘Well, perhaps it’s not very polite, but, as you wish for the
information, I look upon you as a fool, for wishing to invest and waste
your life here; upon Compton as another, because he thinks well of the
place and people; and upon myself as the biggest one of the lot for
staying here, when I know so well what lies before the whole rotten
sham which calls itself a prosperous colony.’
‘Are matters then so bad?’ inquired Ernest, with some solicitude. ‘I
thought that the country was sound generally.’
Mr. Croker bestowed upon him a look of pity, mingled with contempt, and
in his most acid tones replied—
‘If you knew half as much as I do about the banks and mercantile
transactions, if you were a little behind the scenes as I have,
perhaps unluckily, been, you would know that a crash must come—_must_
come—within the next two or three years. I expect to see all the banks
in the hands of official assignees—they’ll be the only solvent people.
As for the merchants——’
‘Well, Mr. Jermyn Croker, “as for the merchants”?‘ said a jolly voice,
and Paul Frankston’s rubicund and reassuring countenance appeared in
the little group which had gathered to listen to the lamentations of
this latter-day seer—‘how about the merchants?’
‘Why,’ returned Mr. Croker, totally unabashed, ‘I expect to see you,
and Holder Brothers, and Deloraine and Company, and the rest, begging
in the streets.’
‘Ha! ha! ha! capital. Well done, Jermyn; put a half-crown or two in
your pocket against that day; I know you’d like to relieve honest
poverty. In the meantime come and dine with me on Thursday, will you,
and Compton, and Neuchamp? Better come soon, you know, while that
Roederer holds out. “Let us eat and drink,” you know, etc. I say, what
will you take for that cattle station of yours at Lake Wondah? No use
holding, you know, eh?’
‘Two pounds a head, for three thousand—calves given in.’
‘What dates?’
‘Cash down! Do you think I’d take any man’s bills now? No, not if
Levison himself were to endorse.’
‘Hem—ha—I learn the cattle are baddish, but the run is understocked.
How long will you leave it open?’
‘Oh! a month; three months if you like. Send me a cheque at any time
for six thousand and I will send you an order to take possession; that
is, as soon as I find the cheque all right.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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