twenty scrip in a company that
was looking so bad that the shares had become unsaleable. The cobbler
knew nothing of the mine, but he held the scrip. Not only so, but he
bought more at a shilling or two apiece, and he went on accumulating
them, until at the end of the year he had scraped together some two or
three hundred. At length he heard that gold had been struck. He went
to a bank, deposited his scrip certificates, and raised upon them all
the money he could borrow. He bought more shares. They trebled in
value. He held on. They trebled again. At last, when the gold was
being got almost by the bucket, and a great mania for the shares had
set in, the cobbler sold out at 250_l._ a share, and found himself a
rich man. The mine was, I think, the Sir William Don, one of the most
successful in Ballarat, now yielding a dividend of about 2_l._ per
share per month, or a return of about 500 per cent. on the paid-up
capital.

But to return to my description of Ballarat. The town lies in a valley
between two slopes, spreading up on both sides and over the summits.
Each summit is surmounted by a lofty tower, built by the Eastern and
Western Fire Brigades. These towers command a view of the whole place,
and are continually occupied by watchmen, who immediately give the
alarm on the outbreak of fire. The people here say that the Ballarat
Fire Brigade is the smartest in the southern hemisphere; though the
engines are all manned by volunteers. And a fire must be a serious
matter in Ballarat, where so many of the buildings--stores as well as
dwellings--are built entirely of wood. Many of the streets are even
paved with wood.

In the afternoon I ascended the western hill, from which I obtained a
fine bird's-eye view of the town. The large, broad streets, at right
angles to each other, looked well laid out, neat, and clean looking.
What seemed strangest of all was the lazy puffing of the engines over
the claims, throwing out their white jets of steam. But for the width
of the streets, and the cleanness of the place, one might almost have
taken Ballarat for a manufacturing town in Yorkshire, though they have
no flower gardens along the middle of their streets!

In the evening I went to the opera--for Ballarat has an opera! The
piece was 'Faust,' and was performed by Lyster and Smith's company
from Melbourne. The performers did their best, but I cannot say they
are very strong in opera yet at the Antipodes.

After thoroughly doing B