y has never
introduced 'growlers.' The waggonettes are light boxes on wheels, covered
in with oil-cloth, which can be rolled up in a few seconds if the weather
is fine or warm. It is strange that victorias like those in Paris have
never been tried in this warm climate. A few years ago Irish
jaunting-cars and a jolting vehicle called a 'jingle' were much used, but
they have slipped out of favour of late, and are now almost obsolete. The
fares are usually moderate, ranging from a shilling for a quarter of an
hour to the same coin for the first mile, and sixpence for every
subsequent one. Cabby is fairly civil, but, as at home, always expects
more than his legal fare.

Nowhere do omnibuses drive a more thriving trade than in Melbourne, and
they deserve it, for they are fast, clean, roomy, and well managed. The
price of labour makes conductors too expensive a luxury, and passengers
have to put their fare--in most cases threepence--into a little glass box
close to the driver's seat. This unfortunate man, in addition to looking
after the horses, and opening and shutting the door by means of a strap
tied to his foot, which you pull when you want to get out, has to give
change whenever a little bell is rung, and to see that the threepences in
the glass box correspond to the number of passengers. Yet not only does
he drive fast and carefully along the crowded thoroughfares, but it is
difficult to escape without paying. Several times when a 'bus has been
crowded I have tried the effect of omitting payment. Invariably the
driver has touched his bell, and if that is not attended to, he puts his
face to the chink through which change is passed, and having re-counted
the number of people in the 'bus, civilly intimates that 'some gentleman
has forgotten to put in his fare.' Where the omnibus companies have not
penetrated, waggonettes similar to those previously described pioneer the
road, and on some well-frequented lines they run in competition with the
omnibuses.

I don't know that it would be true to say that the number of horses and
vehicles in the streets strikes the stranger's eye as a rule. A man
accustomed to the traffic of London streets passes over the traffic of
Melbourne, great as it is for a town of its size, without notice. But I
think he cannot but notice the novel nature of the Melbourne traffic, the
prevalence of that light four-wheeled vehicle called the 'buggy,' which
we have imported via America, and the extraordi