economical) we were passing through the Golden Gate on
our way to a strange land, where we did not possess a friend or
acquaintance that we knew of.

"Well," said Fred, as he stood on deck at the close of the day, and saw
the mountains of California recede from view, "it's precious little fun
I've seen in that country; and if our new home is not more exciting, I
shall be like the Irishman who pined away because he couldn't get up a
fight."

"Don't give yourself any uneasiness on that score," replied the mate,
who chanced to overhear the remark. "I'll warrant that you'll see as
many musses as you'll care to mix in."

"Then, Australia, thou art my home," cried Fred, with a theatrical wave
of his hand, as though bidding adieu to the Golden State forever.

Fred was one of the most peaceable men in the world, and never commenced
a quarrel; but when once engaged in a conflict, he was like a lion, and
would as soon think of yielding as the royal beast.

For nearly fifty days did we roll on the Pacific, amusing ourselves by
playing at "all fours," speculating on the chances of our arrival, and
making small wagers on the day that we should drop anchor; and after we
had all lost and won about an equal amount, we were one morning
overjoyed by the sight of land. Standing boldly in towards a low coast,
with no signs of a harbor, it was not until we were within half a mile
of the shore that we discovered a narrow entrance that opened into
Hobson's Bay; when we dropped anchor opposite to a town consisting of a
dozen or twenty houses, and over one of them floated the flag of
England.

"Well, Mr. Mate," asked Fred, as the men went aloft to furl sails, "do
you call that densely-populated city Melbourne?"

"That!" replied the mate, with a look of contempt at the scattered
houses. "That be d----d. That's Williams Town. Melbourne is a fine city,
seven miles from here, and where all the luxuries of life can be
obtained; but tobacco is the dearest one--so be careful of your weed."

As the officers of the custom house were even then coming on board, we
thanked him for the hint, and put ours out of their reach.

Williams Town is situated at the mouth of the River Zarra, on Hobson's
Bay, and at one time actually threatened to become a place of
considerable importance; but the water for domestic use was too bad to
be tolerated, and most of those who had settled there were glad to
retrace their steps to Melbourne, where a better sort of