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UNPACKING.
57

his only reply was a slow hoarse whisper of "Welcome to Barladong." The person who thus greeted me was an exceedingly deaf old clerk and sexton who had once been a soldier, and was now one of the numerous pensioners that have been drafted off to Western Australia to serve, in place of regular troops, as a protection to the colonists in case of outbreaks from the convicts. He had lost his hearing in a manner singular enough, from a fall down a hatchway during rough weather at sea, and would perhaps have lost his life at the same time if his head had not come in collision with another man's foot, which while breaking the fall was itself broken by the blow.

Having succeeded at last in making the poor old fellow understand what I wanted, he commenced lighting the fire with an alacrity which bespoke the sincerity of the welcome that he had given me; but just at that moment a wagon appeared with our goods from Perth, and we postponed all thoughts of tea until we should have finished unpacking, for the driver confessed to an overturn upon the road, and we wished to know the worst at once, expecting to find every frangible article broken. Things were not so bad as we feared, and even my walnut whatnot, which was brought piecemeal out of the wagon, had fortunately come asunder at its original joinings only. Meanwhile anxiety as to the fate of other movables proved as good a stimulant to me as the tea which I had hoped for, and, tired as I had been an hour before, I now continued helping my husband to arrange our house until ten o'clock at night, when we both went to bed thoroughly weary.

We were not destined to enjoy a long repose, for we