The Gilpins and their Fortunes: A Story of Early Days in Australia

Large as Sydney then was, it was still diminutive compared to what it has since become. Founded by criminals, it was unhappily as far advanced in crime and wickedness as the oldest cities of the old world, though efforts were being then made, as they have ever since continued to be made, and, happily, not without some degree of success, to wipe out the stain. The two brothers stood for some time watching the bustling scene before them. Huge drays laden with bales of wool were slowly moving along the quay towards the ships taking in cargo, while porters, and carts, with ever-moving cranes overhead, were rapidly unloading other vessels of miscellaneous commodities. Irish, Negro, Chinese, and Malay porters were running here and there; cabs and carts were driving about, and other persons on foot and on horseback, mostly in a hurry, evidently with business on their hands. There were, however, a few saunterers, and they were either almost naked black aborigines, with lank hair, hideous countenances, and thin legs, or men with their hands in their pockets, in threadbare coats and uncleaned shoes, their countenances pale and dejected, and mostly marked by intemperance. Many of them were young, but there were some of all ages—broken-down gentlemen, unprepared for colonial life, without energy or perseverance, unable and still oftener unwilling to work. The brothers had not to inquire who they were. Their history was written on their foreheads.