SINGING ROUND THE WORLD.

Dunstan Times, Issue 787, 18 May 1877, Page 4

SINGING ROUND THE WORLD.

Arriving at a small village called Branxholmo, it was resolved to give a concert. For this purpose, a wooden sehoolhotiso was secured, a public announcement given, and the pianoforte —which the party contrived to carry with the— properly adjusted. How any kind oi piano should have been lugged about in those excursions seems ■scarcely practicable. Wo are told it was a square built instrument, four octaves and a half, made by special order in London. It stood upon three logs, which being screwed off, the instrument was packed in a canvas cover with two leather handles. When off duty it was strapped to the back of Hie coach, and ready at all times for use. Never was there such a serviceable piano, or one which kept better in tune. The evening concert at Branxholme was well attended by persons from all directions. The scene was a little grotesque. While the audience wore seated on school-desks and forms, the Kenncdys had to sing on a platform composed of a brandybox covered with a table-cloth. “ The lighting consisted of our two coach lamps, one at each end of the ‘ stage,’ supplemented by one or two candles stuck in bottles; which we asked the front-seat people kindly to hold in their hands.” When the place was crammed, some half-dozen people rushed in and took possession of a capacious fireplace, and the overplus of outsiders looked m at numberless holes and broken windows. It was altogether a success—a triumph to the attractions of song endeared by early associations. A t a place called Dunolly, the party came across the locust plague, winch had been devastating Victoria for several months. It was an awful affliction. The village shopkeepers had in terror put up their shutters and temporarily retired from business. !< Clothing hung out to dry was subsequently found to be pierced and riddled, window-blinds even not escaping. It seemed like a heavy snow-storm, each flake animated, fluttering and whirring. The sky was laden with wings. Every step yon took startled fresh clouds of the insects. They were about an incli and a half in length, somewhat like a grasshopper, and armed with two large, powerful, propelling saw-legs. The insects, when we saw them, were pursuing a southerly course, and many were the schemes put forward to get rid of them—some advocating the introduction of certain well-known locust-birds, others purposing to dig trenches and build long lines of fires, as the most effectual means of riddance. The locusts, by the way, did not hear the conclusion of the argument, as they went steadily forward, and landed in the sea near Geelong.” It was considered a daring thing for the Kennedya to attempt an overland journey from Melbourne to Sydney; but nothing daunted, they set out on this expedition in March, 1873. On being twenty-three days out, they crossed the Murray, and gave a cheer as they passed into New South Wales. There were some droll adventures on the road. Here is a specimen of the way they lived “ Wo make a start as usual in the early morning; all the forenoon we wind monotonously through endless sheep-runs, with no companions but the tuneful magpies and occasional clusters of sheep. At mid-day we pull up at a creek and camp for a couple of hours. We unharness the homos, and tie them to the trees round about us—then one of ns runs down to the creek to fetch water; another spreads a white cloth on a sloping bank ; and a third scrapes together chilis, twigs, pieces of bark, and miscellaneous tinder, making a blazing fire against a tree stump. By ibis time; the supplies arc out of the coach—a cosmopolitan diet of canned meats—sardines from Paris, herring from Aberdeen, oystersfrom Baltimore, and current-jelly from Hobart-Towu, Tasmania, While wc are occupied with these the ‘ billy’ is bubbling on the five, and another largo can is simmering with potatoes. The horses arc busy crunching their maize ; our driver is bedding up the (ire with logs, and fanning it with his old slouch hat. Ho makes ns some capital tea, which we enjoy with the hot potatoes. Then wo stretch ourselves out in the shade, and enjoy a short dreamy siesta, for llie day is warm. In half an hour wc are up and bustling about, folding our table-cloth, collecting our tin pannikins, hooking our pail and billies to the back of the coach, collecting the horse-feed, and harnessing the horses. Wo arc careful, too, to put out the fire—there is a heavy fine inflicted on anyone who leaves anything burning in the bush. The grass is dry, and a spark will set it ablaze. A brief look round to sec that nothing is left, and we are off.” Sydney is at length reached, and its. buildings, parks, and Imrbor arc described with a glow of admiration. There is apparently only a single d raw back—the annoyance arising from the mischievous’ pranks of a class of untameable youths, called “ larrikins,” who go about in gangs of twenty or thirty, break street lamps, maltreat policemen, tear down fences, hustle respectable people even at noonday, and at night commit assaults and robbery. The larrikins have become a deep social nuisance ; but surely it is within the compass of law and government to deal vigorously wi L h this intolerable evil. From Sydney the Kenncdys nailed to Brisbane, the capital of Queensland, a distance of five hundred

miles. Hero, in this modem and thriving city, where Scotchmen are very numerous, they were received with much kindness both in public and private. They sung in the School of Arts, which has a lino capacious hall, adjoining which is an excellent library and reading-room Tho sight of largo public libraries and readingrooms at the principal cities in Australia, struck the party with delighted surprise. There, at the other end of tho world, nro seen tables covered with tho freshest newspapers, magazines, and reviews from tho old country, and looking around you can scarcely realise the fact of being many thousands of miles from home. Still possessing the coach and team of horses which were shipped with them from Sydney, the party set out on a journey to Gyrapie, a distant town which had sprung into existence near some gold-diggings. Towns of this class have three stages; they arc first canvas, then wood, and lastly brick. Gympio was as yet in the wooden stage. This was the most toilsome journey yet encountered. The loads, where there were any, were bad, the hills were steep, and everything was in a raw state, A passage in many places had to bo cut through the dense scrub. The first night, accommodation was found at a wayside inn, kept by a Perth woman, who did her best to make the family comfortable. Next night things were at a bad pass. Near the top of a terrible ascent, the coach fairly stuck. It was seven weary miles to Cobb’s Camp, a wayside house. As an only resource, tho horses were unharnessed, and led off by the party towards this haven of rest, Patrick the driver being left in the coach for the night. Next morning, by means of a relay of fresh horses, the coach was brought forward. 1 n the afternoon about four o’clock, Gympie was sighted, and never was town so welcome. “We were covered with mud from head to foot, and as we walked up the main street, a rumour spread that we had arrived too late for the concert. But we set to work, had tea, put the hall in order, and at eight o’clock stepped on the platform.” One reads of this with satisfaction. It showed a determination not to be baflled. Maryborough, Rockhampton, and some other towns were visited, and sung to. Temptations were held out to go to the more northern parts of Australia ; but the party declined the invitation, and wended their way southwards towards Sydney. Experiences at some of the wayside hotels of Queensland were far from agreeable. “ Three of us are quartered in one bedroom, and are accommodated with what are called ‘ swagmen’s beds.’ Tho pillows are stuffed with straw, and the wisps stick into our ears. We sleep under the national tricolour —-red, white, and blue—a rough redthreaded coverlid, a thin blue blanket, and a thinner white sheet. Another sheet separates us from the barred trestle, beneath, and we feel as if sleeping along a ladder. One window serves two rooms, tho partition coming rigid in the middle of it. As the window was open we try to shut it, but, find that the gentleman next door has propped it up with the hair-brush. ’lhe wall on one side is a wainscoted partition, and a cataract of rats and mice pours unceasingly through it. The other is tho usual calico screen, and when wo blow out our caudle we are startled by seeing, in gigantic shadow-pantomine, the whole of our neighbour’s nocturnal toilet. Just as wo are dozing off w r e hear angry voices in the bar—a crashing of glasses, a scuffling of feet, yells, blows, and foul language—recrimination, threats, and female outcries for the police. Suddenly the sounds mellow down, and wc know tho combatants have been bundled into the open air. Lightly dressing ourselves, we hurry out.” There ensues a horrible drunken brawl not to bo described. (Continued in our next.)