"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