Chap. XII. THE " GRUMBLERS." 297 
assume the esprit de corps before he is allowed to put 
on the uniform. 
So he resolves to wait till a road is made to his 
section, and till there are some people living near it ; 
he dawdles about the beach ; sets down the gen- 
tlemen for a clique of proud, disagreeable people; 
gradually gets into the habit of frequenting the 
billiard-rooms and the hotels ; and thinks he has 
found out a particularly jolly set of fellows in their 
permanent inhabitants. He drinks, smokes, and sings ; 
perhaps sells his land-order, without having seen his 
section or even been outside the town ; and enjoys 
the thing vastly until his money is spent in doing 
nothing. He goes on for some time on credit. But 
the duns begin to gather round him ; he is perhaps 
deserted by the set at the hotel for some newer hand ; 
and he begins to think that, after all, this sort of life 
is managed better in London. Of course, there is a 
great dearth in Wellington of the amusements which 
would suit his taste : the industrious colonists only 
indulge now and then in recreation, and even at those 
times it is short and moderate, and they return to their 
work. 
He is now a confirmed grumbler, and applies the 
maxims and principles which he has picked up over 
the brandy-bottle at the hotel to everything which he 
sees or hears of. He finds excuses in everything for 
his own misconduct : the wind is too violent, the 
rain is too heavy, the sun too scorching, the timber 
too abundant, the land too barren, the houses too 
slight, the roads too bad, the food too nasty — he never 
could have got on ; in short, " it is a wretched hole :" 
and he starts off one morning for Sydney or India, 
having borrowed money or drawn a doubtful bill for 
his passage. He returns to England, generally a worse 
