perty, who was
justly savage at the influx of "new chums" sent out by the directors of
the company he represents. These ne'er-do-wells, of all ages and of all
degrees of stupidity and vice, arrive weekly, with letters of
recommendation from the London directors, and in most cases actual
contracts signed for berths as book-clerks, secretaries, corresponding
clerks, &c., &c.--worthless incumbrances, but, even should they be found
capable, not a berth open for one per cent. sent out: a fault showing
that the directors in London are ignorant of the working of things they
are supposed to direct. A sharp manager, finding himself face to face
with a cargo of these silly "new chums" so landed, after going carefully
over the binding contracts they came armed with, addressed them thus:--

"You, Mr. Nogood, hold a contract made in London by your uncle, a
director of this company, to be engaged on arrival as clerk at L10 a
week. You, Mr. Boozer, are to be engaged at L6 a week as book-keeper;
and you, Mr. Flighty, at L5 a week as an assistant engineer, and so on.
Now, gentlemen, in my position as manager here I may tell you plainly
that your relatives and friends--the directors in London--are not
conversant with the business here in detail. Were they, I am certain,
gentlemen, you would never have signed these contracts agreeing to give
your valuable services to us for such a ridiculously small remuneration.
Things are dearer here than in London, you know; you could not live on
such miserable pittances. Now I am unfortunately in the unhappy position
that whilst here absolutely at the head of affairs and an autocrat, I am
at the same time bound to accept these contracts made in London, and am
therefore powerless to improve your unfortunate acceptances of these
posts assigned to you. However, if you will agree to tear up these
contracts I shall engage you weekly all the same, but at double
salaries. Do you agree to this, gentlemen?"

They all did. The contracts were destroyed, they received double
salaries, for a fortnight, were not asked to do anything, and were all
dismissed with a week's notice by the autocrat, the manager of the
property, who has his picked, tried, and trusted men to do all the work
necessary.

The Western Australian boom is over. The rooks have plucked every
feather they can off the poor pigeon. The Land of Promise, the Land of
Myth, the Land of Sharks and Sharpers, is discovered by the paying
public, and is in