A White Australia 211 



the cities, and raking over the abandoned work- 

 ings of the gold-fields. He is equally successful 

 as a market gardener, and may be found pursu- 

 ing that occupation on the outskirts of almost 

 every Australian town, whether large or small. 

 His ramshackle wooden hut is unmistakable, the 

 roof patched with strips of rusty tin, and the 

 broken windows obscured by sheets of dingy 

 paper. In this hovel, half a dozen or more coolies 

 are crowded together in a condition that would 

 appear to any European as distinctly uncomfort- 

 able and unsanitary. A set of bunks, one above 

 the other, lines the walls, and a peep into the 

 malodorous kitchen proves that John Chinaman's 

 fare is as meagre as his sleeping accommodation. 

 In the tumble-down stable, however, may be 

 found a sleek, well-cared for horse, luxuriating 

 in comfort. "Fat as a Chinaman's horse," and 

 "fat as a larrikin's dog," are two similes of a 

 significant frequency in Australia. The garden 

 itself is a picture of neatness and good manage- 

 ment. The little square raised beds of cabbage 

 and onions are free from weeds and flourishing, 

 a result achieved by constant diligence and a sys- 

 tem of liquid manuring it would not be advisable 

 to investigate too closely, if the vegetables are to 

 be eaten. John is not always cleanly, just as he 

 is not always communicative. On some points, 

 he is bubbling over with information; on others, 

 his attitude is that of the poor untutored foreigner 

 with a very imperfect knowledge of the English 



