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THE CHRONICLES OF EARLY MELBOURNE.

of music. Accompanied by a friend, w e proceeded to the Queen's Wharf, where the ' Aphrasia' was lying, decorated with a profuse display of bunting, which gave her quite a gala appearance. Casting off her moorings, she steamed down the Yarra, and with Tickell's band playing in fine style, ' In Days when w e went Gypsying, a long time ago,' we passed the 'Christina,' 'Henry,' ' Lillias,' ' Flying Squirrel,' and other colonial traders, discharging and loading in the stream. T h e Yarra at that time was bordered on each side by a dense ti-tree scrub, from below Batman's Hill to the junction of the Saltwater River. W e had a very pleasant passage, the band playing dance and other music, to the satisfaction of the passengers. W e were landed on the east bank of the river, on the site selected as a racecourse, and w e beheld several booths erected a short distance off, and a number offlagsflyingin the breeze imparted quite a jolliness to the occasion. In front of the booths, a chain about ioo yards long was fixed on each side of the railing, so that the horses might pass by the winning post without interruption; and a portion of the course was marked off with posts, so that no mistake need be made during the race. Country folks were there in abundance, many of them riding about in a very reckless manner, with one spur on the right heel, with which they punished their poor horses rather unmercifully. T h e band, transferred from the steamer, was perched on a platform erected in one of the booths—a capital draw—for there was sure to be there a constant though changing crowd to listen to the music. It was a beautiful cool day, and the visitors enjoyed themselves very much. It was the grand annual, though casual, foregathering of acquaintances. T h e racing wasfirst-rate,and two horses named R o m e o and Plenipo carried off the honors, while the names of the successful jockeys, Sandy the Butcher, Jim M'Nall, and Lewis Pedrana, were noted by all. At that time very little of that curse of modern racing—betting—prevailed. T h e people returned h o m e happy and contented with their day's pleasure. O n the return trip the ' Aphrasia' was crowded with passengers, the band giving them ' The Lass of Richmond Hill,' ' T h e Light of Other Days is Faded,' ' The Sea,' ' Rory O'More,' and other tunes in favour with the public then. I did not go to the races next year. A drunken row occurred there, which caused the death of a poor fellow named M'Auliffe. Again the racing season came round, and I m a d e up m y mind to be all there; but as I was only 12 years old, m y parents were not willing, on account of the unhappy occurrence of the prexious year, that I should go, and gave m e as an alternative a trip to Hobson's Bay (which at that time was a great treat), or buy m e a nice book. Nothing, however, would do, but I must go the racecourse. It was between 11 and 12 o'clock in the forenoon, m y parents, seeing that nothing else would please me, reluctantly conceded the privilege, and off I started. A s thefirstrace took place at 1 o'clock, I ran nearly all the way to the ground ; and, as the hot wind was blowing with clouds of dust, when I reached m y destination I was very thirsty, and there was no fresh water obtainable. However, I managed at last to get a drink of water on board a steamer which had brought down passengers. Ihe racing was very miserable, for the dust was so great that it was hard to obtain a good view of the running , besides which many mounted countrymen galloped along inside the posts, so that it was almost impossible to see a single one of the matches on the card. Owing to the heat, some unfortunates drank too m u c h beer, and were handcuffed to a bullock-chain passed round a tree, where they lay in the broiling sun until the evening, when they were taken to town in a bullock dray. I returned home, hot, tired, and dusty, resolving never to go again, which resolution I have kept."

Two DAYS' FISHING IN THE OLDEN TIMES.

The first was on a winter's morn in 1840, when two boys went down to the Queen's Wharf for a walk. It was a cloudy day, with a fresh westerly breeze blowing. At that time the wharf was in a very primitive condition. Only a small portion was piled for the use of the " Aphrasia" steamer, and the only other steamer in the port was the "Governor Arthur," which plied to Williamstown and the Bay. T h e remaining frontage to the river was in a state of nature, trees in many places overhanging the banks, to which vessels were moored when required. T h e approaches to the wharf were in a shocking condition-no vestige of a road, but just the original swamp, which stretched