NINE MONTHS IN VICTORIA;

New Zealander, Volume 9, Issue 767, 20 August 1853, Page 3

NINE MONTHS IN VICTORIA;

OR, THE ADVENTURES OF AN IMMIGRANT IN SEARCH OF EMPLOYMENT. To the Editor of the Argus. I am, Sir, one of lhal class of young men who have in such numbers been deluded into (he mania of emigration, and have left home, friends, and a good profession, lo undergo the following scenes in my adopted country : Some twelve months since, I left Plymouth, with a large number of other young men, in the good ship (t will give her a name) Prospcro, bound for Port Phillip; and in due course, we arrived otT the Heads, full of life and hope, in anxious expectation of being all of us soon in remunerative employ. Entering the Bay, having obtained a pilot, we questioned the. good man upon the slate of colonial affairs, and received from him such accounts as he was aware of. We learnt of him the sad prices of provisions ; we heard from him of (he scarcity of lodgings ; we were informed by him of the dearness of everything; hut were withal still unprepared for what was lo follow ; hut, casting anchor the same night in Hobson's Bay, we had convincing proof of the sad reality. We went ashore the next day, and by way of introduction to the manners and customs of colonial life, we were charged the steamer’s price current for the conveyance of passengers. On landing in Melbourne, we had an insight of what we might expect, by contemplating the Wharf. 1 then set about looking for lodgings, and being with a friend, we thought we would lake rooms together, and occupy the same bedroom. Calling at a respectable-looking house, in U—street. 1 asked to be allowed lo look at the accommodations of the lodgings, with which I was satisfied, and modestly inquired the price to be charged per week ? Six guineas, was the unmoved reply. 1 was “doubled up” [a la “ game chicken,most completely, at this announcement ; hut repressing my astonishment, said quietly, I would call again. Passing from house to house, we found private accommodation very scanty, and at very high rales, and were obliged, as a last resource, to content ourselves with the hoard and lodging-houses. I will not enter into a description of how we all were disgusted at them ; the numbers huddled in a room together more like pigs than human beings, the inchilily of landlords, and the vast expense of the necessaries of life. Choosing at last, from amongst Inc varied assortment, we set about getting our luggage on shore. This was expensive work, and how we were cheated, overcharged, and abused, would astonish our English, but only raise a smile on the faces of our colonial friends. Then came the lug of war, the battle of life, as we bunted for employment. 1 should just mention that I am an engineer, and have held, within the last two years, a situation as sub-engineer on the Great Western Railway. Of course, my vocation now, 1 thought will be in that line. Calling everywhere I thought likely, presenting my introductory letters, I was civilly received in some places, and gruffly in others ; in nearly every place ‘ 4 want of colonial experience- ’ was the bugbear to all my wishes, and as a last resource I was obliged to try the diggings ! What fevered imaginings has this word excited in the fatherland ! what homes has it broken up, and changed the aspect of life at home ! But lo return ; I went to the diggings, and had a “ new chum’s” experience—now with poor success, and anon with failure, (ill, after sinking an infinity of “ chisers” (I am not certain of the orthography), I found myself with only one sixpence in the world. In this position I thought it necessary lo do something. So plucking up my courage, though my heart was oftentimes in my mouth, 1 sallied forth up the diggings amt looked about me. Presently I espied on a tree a notice lo the effect that a “cook was wanted at M—’s store.” I called, and now, thought 1 to myself, what will they say about “ colonial experience?” Not a word, and after some little demur I was installed as cook, and with ladle in hand I contemplated my new position. This is a pretty pass, thought 1; an engineer turned cook ' sic transit gloria minidi) ; but gulphing down my weakness, I set about doing the duties af my office, made soups, puddings, and cooked joints : this I did till 1 had lined my pocket sufficiently to takeme to Melbourne; so leaving my employer, 1 bade adieu to pots and pans, and retraced my steps to Melbourne. Here 1 tried again and again, and like a cork on a sheet of watir, 1 floated listlessly about, carried wherever (he stream chose to take me. 1 could not attain my wishes; so, doffing pride again, 1 took to menial employment. Now I was a laborer on the roads, “ keeping my pick moving;” then I was a waiter in a coffee-room, where I had pretty good success ; hut 1 could not rest; 1 landed I was losinc ground, and could not thus obtain my wishes ; and so again 1 set about a task which to me was impracticable, and wailed long and wearily in disappointment. On the day of the Melbourne races 1 sallied forth with the rest of the crowd, and on the course earned 2os. that day holding horses; this was good luck, I thought, and enabled me to look up slightly. So thus 1 struggled on till one day, Mr. Editor, I obtained the goal of my wishes; and now. Sir, 1 am happy, comfortable, and satisfied, and can readily sympathise with those new chums in my former pitiable condition. Believe me, Sir, a new arrival wants a civil word now and then ; it helps him lo be superior lo Ihe force of cir* cumstances, and enables him lo overcome difficulties. This, Sir, is not an exaggerated statement; it is, moreover, a statement of facts; and does it not leach a lesson (humble though it be) lo those who do nothing? I am, Sir, now none Ihe worse for what i have undergone, have, I trust, profited by Ihe example, and have learnt more than ever 1 knew bdorc of “ high life below stairs.” I am. Sir, your obedient servant, Melbourne, ■ »ne 25th, 1855. C, E.