The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1886-08-14

cars, and noise and smoke, and big
ships and steamers in the harbor, and
thousands of people who never heard
of the Brooklyn bridge or the Bartholdi
statue! Just think of it! tell you
realized these things when landed in
the big, strange city and knew there
was not man, woman or child there
l had ever seen or heard of. Lonesome
as 1 was on the ocean, Twas thousand
times more lonesome in this bustling
place. so full of strange faces. wanted
to blubber right out in the streets, but
of course was enough of a man not to
do that.
las said before, I had letter Of
credit in my pocket. There was moth
ing mean about my father, and he had
given me documents which would en-
able me to draw at the various banks
in Australia f25 sterling, or over 5000
a month. But had been thinking the
matter over. There was a very con-
siderable portion of the American
eagle tucked away in my sixteen-year-
old body, and was too independent
for any thing. l made up my mind
that / would not use the letter of credjk
or accept any further assistance from
my father l would cast him off. He
had chosen to turn me away from his
home, said to myself. Never. never
again would l touch a penny of his
money. would show him whether l
was good for naught, as he had said.
My plan was to make fortune in short
order Then would return to New
York, and as anfolded my millions to
the astonished gaze of my stern parent,
would snap my finger in his face and
cry:
keep thy wealth, sirrah! wish
none of it,
alt gave me great comfort to repeat
these words, and as l thought over my
coming triumph forgot all about my
homesick feelings.
go dear! l don't believe you want
to hear the rest of this story. 1t makes
me blush to think of it. Well, if Unjust,
here goes.
IL very soon found out that Mel
bourne was full of men who had come
from distant lands to get rich quickly
in the Land of Promise. The city was
full of strangers of every sort; English
men, Irishmen, Americans, Spaniards,
Cinnamon, and don know what all. 1t
was pretty rough crowd, if the truth
must be told. They were all talking of
the gold fields and the sheep pastures,
and / soon found out that these were
considered the two royal roads to for
tune. mingled with the rough, rest
less crowd, and my ears burned with
the stories heard of fabulous nuggets
of gold picked up in the new Ell Dorado.
Men looked at my smooth, boyish face,
and my stylish clothes. with some
establishment, but they were accustomed
to see all sorts of men and boys among
them, for the gold fever is by no means
q poor mans disease, and ministers and
miners often worked side by side,
grading for the precious mineral which
makes the world so miserable.
Zone day fell in with a smooth,
sleek man who took great interest in
me. 1 told him all about myself and
my plans for astonishing the governor.
He said was brave fellow, and adj
vised me to join his party, which was
getting ready for the gold fields. was
only too glad to accept. When woke
up one morning and found that my
new friend had walked off with my
new clothes. my gold watch, my letter
of credit, and all my money, began to
lose faith in the gold fields. The rascal
had left me his well-worn clothes, and,
to show that he still had a conscience.
he had placed a couple of gold sover-
eigns in the vest pocket
$50 tried sheep-raising. perforce.
Now, 1 don't think I care to say much
about the two years spent, three hum
bred miles from Melbourne, working
for farmer at seven English shiliings
week. 1t was not life to brag
about. For young man seeking his
fortune it was not success. If you
could have seen Ernest Travers, the
son of a rich man, Smelling dried peas,
and helping to wash sheep, and curry
ing horses, all for the princely sum of
dollar and half q week and his
board, don't think you would have
envied the Prodigal Son q bit. l don't
care to tell how many quarts of tears /
shed on those peas, or how many, many
times / vowed that if I ever got home
again / would be a good boy for ever
after. l boarded the pennies but they
came slowly.
''One day, after two years of this
life, threw down my spade whore
was digging, and started on foot Cor
Melbourne. Do you know what il =,
to walk three hundred miles over a
rough country Hope you never will.
When reached Melbourne my clothes
were in tatters and my shoes were all
uppers. Twas so stiff that it took me
an hour to walk half mile, and the
big blisters on my feet often made me
cry with pain. and I was no baby
either. Twas pretty looking specta-
Gle! On the road a big tramp took
away my little hoard of money, and all
l had left was q few shillings which he
had overlooked. I had intended to 60
u = - y