in it that kept it clear and clean. Down in the scattered orchard the almond trees were shedding their vesture of pale pink, and the cherry plums were budding out in dazzling white, and the wattle bloom shone like yellow gold through the olive of the gums, lovely to look at, till the enraptured wretch takes out his sketching-pad and colour-box, and dips about among his yellows to catch their bloomy gold. Then he finds them--well--diabolical!--it is a slight term to describe the artist's sensations; but I have scruples, a woman is so handicapped in this matter of adequate expression.
I felt rather bewildered that afternoon. The amazing amount of sunshine had something to do with this, I fancy--it always does stagger a newcomer. Of course one finds sunshine in other places,--in Southern France, in parts of Spain, and in Italy,--but Australian sunlight is quite original, and only flourishes in Australia. It is young and rampant and bumptious, and it is rather cruel, with the cruelty of young untried things. Then it is inexorable, and can neither pity nor revere,--and the only time it knows tenderness is when it hovers on the threshold of the horizon on its road back to the old lands. Ah, but it is magnificent in the pride of its youth!
One wonders sometimes if it will mellow and soften as time goes on, and history is made in this wonderful boundless land; and hearts break, and the wind catches the tune of human sobbing, and holds it.
The land is so young to civilisation yet, so young
