ight,
he reached the hut of Williams, the farthest settler, north of Perth, in
time to find the wife and another woman at breakfast. He had known Mrs.
Williams, and, forgetting how strangely want and suffering had changed
his appearance for the worse, he expected her to remember him again. But
he was mistaken for a crazy Malay, nicknamed Magic, who used to visit
the houses of the out-settlers. Hurt at his reception, "I am not Magic,"
exclaimed he. "Well then, my good man, who are you?" inquired they,
laughing. "One who is almost starved," was his solemn reply. "Will you
take this, then?" said the hostess, handing him a cup of tea she was
raising to her lips. "With all my heart and soul, and God reward you for
it," was the answer; and he swallowed the delicious draught. Who can
fail of being reminded, upon reading this anecdote, of those gracious
and beautiful words of his Redeemer--"Whosoever shall give you a cup of
water to drink in my name, because ye belong to Christ, verily I say
unto you, he shall not lose his reward"? (Mark ix. 41.)

The mention of the out-settler's hut, in which Captain Grey met with
this small, but most acceptable, kindness, may serve to remind us of an
object, which, although not, strictly speaking, belonging to the bush,
is, nevertheless, very frequently seen in that part of the wild country
which is most visited,--the portions of it which are adjoining to the
British settlements. In these parts of the bush the small hut of the
humble out-settler may often be espied; and, while we speak of the toils
and privations frequently undergone by this class of people at first, we
must not forget that they are thus opening to themselves a way to future
wealth and comfort. Nor, be it recollected, is the condition of an
out-settler in the Australian bush any more a fair average specimen of
that of the inhabitants of the colonies than the owner of a mud-hovel
raised on some English heath would be of the inhabitants of the parish
in which he happens to dwell. One strong difference may be seen in the
two cases. In England the cottager must, in all likelihood, live and die
a cottager, as his fathers have done before him, and his children will
after him; whereas, in the Australian colonies, with prudence and the
Divine blessing, (without which a man can do well nowhere) the humble
out-settler may gradually, yet rapidly, grow up into the wealthy and
substantial farmer and landowner. Bearing in mind these facts,