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LETTER TWENTY-TWO
89

The morning sunshine, the noontide shower, and the white moonlight of midnight, gushed in upon us alike. You will, perhaps, think had you been with us, you would have had a few vegetables at any rate, for you would have made a bit of garden, and cultivated them for yourselves; but you would have done no such thing! The slave-masters of New South Wales require their servants to work for them from sunrise till sunset, and will not allow them to have gardens, lest they should steal a half-hour's time to work in them. I should mention that our boxes, coming up from Sydney on Sir John's dray, were broken open, and almost everything worth carrying away was stolen. I made this at first a very grave complaint, but only got laughed at for my pains, and told that was nothing. During the time I was at Sir John's, I was employed mostly in a vineyard consisting of sixteen acres of land. I was there during the vintage season, and left just as we had done wine-making in the middle of last February, having been in his service six months. This estate of Sir John's is named 'Regentville,' and is situated about three miles from the small town of Penrith, on the bank of the Nepean River, and about the same distance from the first range of the Blue Mountains. I