A Colonial Reformer, Vol. 1 (of 3)Boldrewood, Rolf
History
A Colonial Reformer, Vol. 1 (of 3)
Boldrewood, Rolf
Australia -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
‘Then you would not advise me to invest just at present?’ inquired he.
‘Not unless you wish to be in the possession of a small, _very_ small
amount of experience, and not one solitary copper at the end of twelve
months,’ said Mr. Frankston, with great decision. ‘This is a bad time
to buy, stock are falling. Don’t begin at all till you see your way. If
you meet Selmore tell him you’ve changed your mind for the present, and
will write and let him know when it is convenient for you to inspect
Gammon Downs. Five, sharp! old man;’ and with a paternal glance in his
quick twinkling eye, Mr. Frankston made an affirmative nod to his chief
clerk, who then and there entered, and a farewell one to Ernest, who
after he left the portals stood for a moment like a man in a dream.
‘This is certainly a most remarkable country,’ he soliloquised; ‘with
their outward resemblance to Englishmen, there must be some strange
mental divergence not easily fathomed. I remember Granville telling me
that this old buffer was a better father to him than his own had ever
been, or some such strong expression; therefore I will at once decide
to act upon his advice; Selmore and his winning way, notwithstanding.
One must take up a position firmly or not at all. So I shall elect to
stand or fall by this apoplectic old white-waistcoated guardian angel,
as he proposes to be.’
‘My dear Neuchamp,’ said a cheery voice, while a cheery hand smote
him familiarly on the back, ‘you look absorbed in contemplation.
This is the wrong country for that. Action, sir, action is the word
in Australia. Now, do you know what I was doing when I ran against
you?—actually going down to Bliss’s livery stables to see if I could
pick you out a decent hack. Burstall and Scouter are going to start
early to-morrow, and of course you’ll want a hack that won’t frighten
you after coming from the old country. With luck you’ll be under the
verandah at Gammon Downs on the afternoon of the fourth day.’
Ernest braced himself together, and fixing his eyes upon the somewhat
shifting orbs of his agreeable friend, said with studied calmness—
‘I shall be extremely sorry, my dear sir, to put you or your friends to
any inconvenience on my account, but I have changed my mind, and do not
think of leaving Sydney for a month or two.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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