Lost Lenore: The Adventures of a Rolling StoneReid, Mayne
General
Lost Lenore: The Adventures of a Rolling Stone
Reid, Mayne
Adventure stories; Dime novels; Fiction
Never had I been amongst so large a population, where society was in so
uncivilised a condition. The number of men and women encountered in the
streets in a state of beastly intoxication--the number of both sexes, to
be seen with black eyes, and other evidences, that told of many a mutual
"misunderstanding,"--the horridly profane language issuing out of the
public-houses, as you passed them--in short, everything that met either
the eye or ear of the stranger, proclaimed to him, in a sense not to be
mistaken, that Melbourne must be the abode of a depraved people. There,
for the first time in my life, I saw men allowed to take their seats at
the breakfast tables of an hotel, while in a state of staggering
intoxication!
With much that was disgusting to witness, there were some spectacles
that were rather amusing. A majority of the men seen walking the
streets--or encountered in the bar-rooms of public-houses--carried grand
riding whips; and a great many wore glittering spurs--who had never been
upon the back of horse!
The hotel keepers of Melbourne did not care for the custom of
respectable people, just landed in the colony; but preferred the
patronage of men from the mines--diggers who would deposit with them,
the proceeds of their labour, in bags of gold dust; and remain drunk,
until told there was but five pounds of the deposit left--just enough to
carry them back to the diggings!
I am not speaking of Melbourne at the present time; but the Melbourne of
ten years ago. It is now a fine city, where a part of all the world's
produce may be obtained for a reasonable price. Most of the inhabitants
of the Melbourne of 1853--owing to the facility of acquiring the means--
have long since killed themselves off by drink and dissipation; and a
population of more respectable citizens, from the mother country, now
supply their places.
I made but a short stay in this colonial Gomorrah. Disgusted with the
city, and everything in it, a few days after my arrival, I started off
for the McIvor diggings.
I travelled in company with several others, who were going to the same
place--to which we had "chartered" a horse and dray for carrying our
"swags."
One of my travelling companions was drunk, the night before leaving
Melbourne; and, in consequence, could eat no breakfast on the morning
when we were about to start. He had neglected to provide himself with
food for the journey; and depended on getting his meals at eating-houses
along the road.
Before the day was over, he had become very hungry; but would not accept
of any food offered him by the others.
"No thank'ee," he would say, when asked to have something. "I'll wait.
We shall stop at a coffee-house before night; and I'll make it a caution
to the man as keeps it. I'll eat all before me. My word! but I'll make
it a warning to him, whoever he be. He'll not want to keep a
coffee-house any longer."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account