Although all you see are English faces, and you hear no other language but English spoken, yet you soon become aware that you are in a country very different from England, by the number of parrots and other birds of strange notes and plumage which you observe hanging at so many doors, and cagesful of which you will soon see exposed for sale as you proceed. The government gangs of convicts, also, marching backwards and forwards from their work in single military file, and the solitary ones straggling here and there, with their white woollen Paramatta frocks and trousers, or gray or yellow jackets with duck overalls, (the different styles of dress denoting the oldness or newness of their arrival,) all bedaubed over with broad arrows, P.B.'s, C.B.'s, and various numerals in black, white, and red, with perhaps the jail-gang straddling sulkily by in their jingling leg-chains,--tell a tale too plain to be misunderstood. At the corners of streets, and before many of the doors, fruit-stalls are to be seen, teeming, in their proper seasons, with oranges, lemons, limes, figs, grapes, peaches, nectarines, apricots, plums, apples, pears, &c. at very moderate prices.--_Two Years in New South Wales_. * * * * * MELANCHOLY. FROM MATTHISON The nightingale's sad note in gloom is ringing, As wails the bride above her lover's grave; Like Grief above the tomb her tresses wringing, So gleams the star of evening o'er the wave. A melancholy haze hangs o'er the ocean; The rocky cliffs reflect a sallow light-- Such as through cloister'd halls of dim devotion, The moon-beams pour upon the cloudy night. Ye rocky heights--ye violet-meads appearing Once fairer to my gaze than poet's dream-- Now all your golden light to gloom is veering, And every floweret laves in Lethe's stream. Hills, valleys, meads, no changes ye are mourning; 'Tis to the hopeless every star appears Like lamps in dark sepulchral vistas burning-- And every dew-tipp'd flower is gemm'd with tears! _Stray Leaves; or, Translations from the German Poets_. * * * * * THE GATHERER "I am but a _Gatherer_ and disposer of other men's stuff."--_Wotton_. The projector of one of the new canals, accompanied by two or three friends, was superintending the operations of the workmen, and frequently lamented the loss which the speculation was likely to occasion to him. He was mounted on horseback at the time, when the animal, suddenly becoming unruly, plunged, and threw his rider into the water. Being quickly rescued from his disagreeable situation, and safely landed on the bank, one of his companions begged to congratulate him on the happy change that had taken place in his fortune, "for have I not often told you (said the wit) that the canal would one day _fill your pockets_?" * * * * *