all we go? That's the question."

The old adage is still quite true--'coelum non animum mutant qui
trans mare currunt'. When a young gentleman in England takes to
idleness and grog, and disgraces his family, he is provided with a
passage to Australia, in order that he may become a reformed
prodigal; but the change of climate does not effect a reform; it
requires something else.

Dan in Glasgow and Bez in Manchester had both been given to drink too
much. They came to Victoria to acquire the virtue of temperance, and
they were sober enough when they had no money.

Dan told me that when he awoke after his first week at sea, he sat
every day on the topgallant forecastle thinking over his past
wickedness, watching the foam go by, and continually tempted to
plunge into it.

After the rum, the dray, and the four horses were seized by the
police. Dan and Bez grew sober, and went to Reid's Creek, passing me
at work on Spring Creek. They came back as separate items. Dan
called at my tent, and I gave him a meal of damper, tea, and jam. He
ate the whole of the jam, which cost me 2s. 6d. per pound. He then
humped his swag and started for Melbourne. On his way through the
township, since named Beechworth, he took a drink of liquor which
disabled him, and he lay down by the roadside using an ant-hill for a
pillow. He awoke at daylight covered with ants, which were stinging
and eating him alive.

Some days later Bez came along, passed my tent for a mile, and then
came back. He said he was ashamed of himself. I gave him also a
feed of damper, tea, and jam limited. Dan had made me cautious in
the matter of lavish hospitality. The Earl of Lonsdale lately spent
fifty thousand pounds in entertaining the Emperor of Germany, but it
was money thrown away. The next time the Kaiser comes to
Westmoreland he will have to pay for his board and buy his preserves.
Bez made a start for Melbourne, met an old convict, and with him took
a job at foot-rotting sheep on a station owned by a widow lady. Here
he passed as an engraver in reduced circumstances. He told lies so
well, that the convict was filled with admiration, and said, "I'm
sure, mate, you're a flash covey wot's done his time in the island."

The two chums foot-rotted until they had earned thirty shillings
each, then they went away and got drunk at a roadside shanty; at
least, Bez did, and when the convict picked his pockets, he kindly
put back three shillings and six