ush, clad in its never
varying dark green verdure. The sky was clear, blue, and cloudless;
and though the sun was in all his strength, the light breeze that
played round the top of the mount made the air pleasant and
exhilarating to breathe.

I shortly turned my steps down-hill, tacking and zigzagging in the
descent because of the steepness. I was soon at the foot of the mount,
across the brook, and seated in the garden, enjoying the fresh fruit,
with an occasional draught of colonial wine.

Apropos of wine and grapes. It is anticipated by those who have had
the longest experience of the climate and soil of Victoria, that it is
not unlikely before long to become one of the principal wine-growing
countries in the world. The vine grows luxuriantly, and the fruit
reaches perfection in all parts of the colony, but more particularly
in the fine district situated along the River Murray. Most of the
farmers up country make their own wines for home use. It is a rough,
wholesome sort of claret. But when the Germans, who are well
accustomed to the culture of the vine, give the subject their
attention, a much finer quality is produced. There are already several
vineyard associations at work, who expect before long to export
largely to England, though at present the greater part of the wine
grown is consumed in the colony. A friend of mine at Melbourne has
planted an extensive vineyard at Sunbury, some thirty miles north of
the city, cultivated by Swiss vignerons; and, though I am no judge of
wine, the Burgundy which I tasted at his table was very grateful to my
inexperienced palate, and I was told that it was of very superior
quality.[9]

After summer comes harvest, when the farmer gathers in the produce of
his year's industry, takes stock, and counts his gains. Harvest is
well over by the end of February. When I rode out to Perry's Farm, on
the second day of March, I found the fields already cleared, and the
grain housed. All the extra hands had gone. Only a week before, the
fields had been busy with reapers, binders, and machine-men, for whom
enormous meat pies had to be cooked and great joints of meat
roasted,--for labouring men in Australia are accustomed to consume
much larger quantities of flesh meat than at home.

The scene is now perfectly quiet. The cows are coming in to be milked,
and a very fine lot they are--fifteen or more. The great stacks of
straw are shining in the red sunlight, for the sun is getting low,
th