THE PERIPATETIC PHILOSOPHER ON SQATTERS—PAST AND PRESENT.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume V, Issue 66, 19 March 1870, Page 2

THE PERIPATETIC PHILOSOPHER ON SQATTERS— PAST AND PRESENT.

THE PAST. Arcades Ambo. Not blackguards both, as wicked Byron translates it, but squatters. Yesterday afternoon I received almost simultaneously a letter from my oldfrientl^ Robin Ruff, of the Murrumbidgee, and a visit from my young friend, Dudley Smooth of Scott's Hotel. Both were squatters, both about equally wealthy, both good fellows in their way, both occupied nearly the same position in society, both were alike, — aud yet how widely different. Robin. Ruff, writing in a shaky hand, with honest independence of spelling, aud hearty contempt for unnecessary doubling of consonants, sent a message to his jriMudsou, and would I see Wether and YVeaners' people about "them yowes." Robin Ruff is aa old man. He is nearer 70 than 60, I should say, but he is as erect as a dart, ami can ride a long day's journey, or do a hard day's work with many a younger man. He is six feet high, his hands are knotted and brown — mottled with sun and hardened with labor, his shoulders are broad his head well set on, his eye confident. His head is white, and his beard is white also, save that brown patch round the mouth that looks as if snuff had been spilt on it. In appearauce he is not elegaut. His coat is too big for him. and his hat is not of the fashionable mould. His boots are clumsy, and have thick soles, which creak as he walks. He carries'a big oak stick, and wears a big silver watch. He looks very fierce indeed aud not at all a "ladies man ;" but people who know him well, like him, and little children run to him at first sight. Robin Ruff came to this colony in 1836 r the year before Mr. Latrobe was made Superintendent. He had been squatting in Sydney before that, but hearing much of the " new colony," came over to better his fortunes. Old Ruff — long since put away in the kirkyard — had kept a little shop iu a little Scotch town, and had saved a bit of money, but Robin, adventurous lad, wearied of the big grey hills and the quiet old strangling street, wearied even of his uncle's farm, with its dull round of ploughing and sowing, determined to seek hi3 fortune. The old father advised, aud the old mother wept beneath her horn spectacles, but Robin would go. Wise bodies at market predicted " nae guid" of the lad — he rebuilt the market-hall the other day with good Aberdeen grauite — and it was generally prophesied that he would bring his parents' grey hair.-i with sorrow to the grave. For the first 10 years of his Australian struggles he seemed likely enough to fulfil the worst of their prophesies. It was a hard fight, aud little to get for it. But by steadiness and industry he got a Hi tie money together at last. The marvelous virtue that lies in sheer hard work brought him through after 10 years, and made him independent. Arrived in this Port Phillip wilderness, up the country he went. Land was to be had easily enough in those days, and being his own bullockdriver and stockrider, and shepherd and cook, Robin Ruff soon made a home for himself. He began to be looked upon as ,i " warm" man. Jolly boys carousiug in Melbourne town, at the foundation of Prince's- bridge, spoke of Ruff's luck aud cursed their own in genial fashion. By-and-by the great crash came. Sheep aud cattle worth nothing, and Ruff's luck seemed gone. He had bought land with his saved money, and when the " diggings broke out"' (like an errupiion, one would think) had recovered his losses. He is an old man now, and people ask him why he doseu't "go homo and live i ;" but he knows better. ' His daughter is married here, and his grandchildren are here too. He has his station to occupy his mind, his trips to Melbourne, his rubber, his pipe, his club, aud his chat with other jolly old boys. How the old fellows chuckle as some quaint nickname, springiug up in the conversation, recalls some hearty piece of jollity in the "old days !" He diil go home ouco, but he didn't like it. London was so lonely. He did not like to pull out his old elay pipe in his dapper nephew'3 smoking-room, and when bis neice talked French to him, aud asked his opinion of the mise en scene at tho opera, he felt uncomfortable. He went to his native town, but his father and mother were dead, and he could remember nobody. A railway bridge spanned the burn where he paddled ia his boyish days, and

the Telegraph Office had been built where Stood the tree on which he had cut little Jeanie's name with his clasp-knife 40 years before. He gave money to the local charities, and rebuilt the market-house, and. for that the town council got at him and gave him a dinner, and a fat cheesemonger with a turn for oratory, made speeches ut him all the evening. Sickened tired, and disappointed, he took his passage for Melbourne, aud smoking his pipe on the night of his arrival with tlic old faces round him, inwardly vowed he would go home no more. He is not a brilliant fellow to talk to, he is not aristocratic, nor even atheistical, but he is a fine, honest, kind-hearted old man, and has not been without his use in this brand-new goahead colouy of ours.