SANDHURST AS IT IS.

Tuapeka Times, Volume III, Issue 201, 7 December 1871, Page 6

SANDHURST AS IT IS.

(From the "Mount Alexander Mail.")

When .Rip Van Winkle arose from his sleep in the Kaatskill Mountains, and with clothes tattered and torn, wended ' his way to his village, he found himself at a loss to understand what had occurred, so changed was the scene that met his eye".. He was Rip Van Winkle in feeling and association, but the village that he had known had departed and was no more. Pharoahs had arisen that knew not Joseph. Anyone who has not seen (Sandhurst for three years, returning to the town just now, would be quite as much puz2led as the long-suffering spouse of Danie Van Winkle. He would not know it again. A change has come over the spirit of the dream that no one could have thought possible iv those sober years, when Sandhurst was a plodding borough and Ballarat the great centre. The change has come with a vengeance-. Let us endeavour to depict a scene in October lnGl, and one in October 1871. The scene is Under the Verandah, Pall Mall, four o'clock. Some ladies are walking along the Mall, now and then entering a shop to make a purchase ; a broker or two loiters about the Victoria Hotel, arranging with a solitary customer about shares, strictly at a halfpenny, brokerage. Tlfe Victoria Hotel bar is without an occupant. ; The Shamrock Hotel is one for boarders. Stillness and listlessness bang over the scene. Business in shares takes a couple of days to transact. The world plods quietly along, and on Saturday nights the men come in with their wives, and the Mall assumes a bustling appearance. People stare at cakes of gol(} 200ozs. in size, j Melbourne is unrepresented save by a traveller or two. There is no animation, no life, and the traveller says with a shudder of disgust : " What a Sleepy Hollow." Out in the mines are men working hard to develope their riches, and in the town are men working hard to pay the expenses, and thinking that the clay will come when they will reap the reward. Iv the " Arabian Nights " we read of cities and inhabitants turned into stone, waiting for deliverance from the thraldom of witchcraft. Sandhurst was labouring under the spell of iinpecuniosity, and it was essentially and to all purposes a city of expectation. The bright sun is shining in the blue sky — the dust is beiug hurled down Pall Mall in blinding showers. But it is not the Pall Mall that we knew. The splendid pile of buildings called the Beehive presents now a ghostly array of burnt brick walls. But we cannot see the pavement ; it is covered with eager men up to their eyes in business. Nay, not only the pavement; but right to the middle of the road the crowd spreads — a great web of money- making spiders. Business is done ie a second by scores of brokers, whose din astounds the ears. If you enter the Victoria, you cannot find room ; the bar is crowded, and it is with difficulty you can get a drink to" quench your thirst. Tour senses become dazed amidst the great cry that ascends from the crowd dealing in shares and turning over hundreds of pounds while you are taking a step. Rip Van Winkle goes in to the back room, where usually a couple quietly sit sipping their beer and chatting. It is crowded to the doors with men buying and selling scrip, and the Babel of tongues makes Rip rush to the passage. There he is assailed again. Bustle, noise, and excitement reign everywhere. Night comes — the lamps are lighted, and the same scene is continued " Under the Gaslight." Surely at the Shamrock — in the big dining room — a little quiet can be obtained. Rip recollects he used to sit there Bipping a cup of tea and chatting with the pretty waitress half an hour without a soul intruding on his privacy. At 11 he goes to the Shamrock. The bar i& full. The big din* ing-room is one mass of people — smoking, drinking, talking, an.d speculating, . The landlord is fra.ntie ; he does not know where to stow his guests, who file in at the big door,

having just arrived by the train. There is no rest for the. soul of the quiet man's foot. It is 11 o'clock, but business goes on as brisk as ever. Rip tries to get a quiet corner, fails, and rushes out iutu the starlight and laroulight, determined to seels the Kaatakili, or One Tree Hill, or Big Hill, or any hill or vale where he can be qukf. Sandhurst is not the Saudhurst of tae' past; it is not his Sandhurst.