He Showed Me Some Half-Dozen Stalks Of Gigantic Size,
But Most Of That Along The Roadside Was Thin And Poor.
Then we reached
Christ Church on the little river Avon; it is larger than Lyttelton and
more scattered, but not so pretty.
Here, too, the men are shaggy,
clear-complexioned, brown, and healthy-looking, and wear exceedingly
rowdy hats. I put up at Mr. Rowland Davis's; and as no one during the
evening seemed much inclined to talk to me, I listened to the
conversation.
The all-engrossing topics seemed to be sheep, horses, dogs, cattle,
English grasses, paddocks, bush, and so forth. From about seven o'clock
in the evening till about twelve at night I cannot say that I heard much
else. These were the exact things I wanted to hear about, and I
listened till they had been repeated so many times over that I almost
grew tired of the subject, and wished the conversation would turn to
something else. A few expressions were not familiar to me. When we
should say in England "Certainly not," it is here "No fear," or "Don't
YOU believe it." When they want to answer in the affirmative they say
"It is SO," "It does SO." The word "hum," too, without pronouncing the
U, is in amusing requisition. I perceived that this stood either for
assent, or doubt, or wonder, or a general expression of comprehension
without compromising the hummer's own opinion, and indeed for a great
many more things than these; in fact, if a man did not want to say
anything at all he said "hum hum." It is a very good expression, and
saves much trouble when its familiar use has been acquired. Beyond
these trifles I noticed no Yankeeism, and the conversation was English
in point of expression. I was rather startled at hearing one gentleman
ask another whether he meant to wash this year, and receive the answer
"No." I soon discovered that a person's sheep are himself. If his
sheep are clean, he is clean. He does not wash his sheep before
shearing, but he washes; and, most marvellous of all, it is not his
sheep which lamb, but he "lambs down" himself.
* * *
I have purchased a horse, by name Doctor. I hope he is a homoeopathist.
He is in colour bay, distinctly branded P. C. on the near shoulder. I
am glad the brand is clear, for, as you well know, all horses are alike
to me unless there is some violent distinction in their colour. This
horse I bought from - , to whom Mr. FitzGerald kindly gave me a letter
of introduction. I thought I could not do better than buy from a person
of known character, seeing that my own ignorance is so very great upon
the subject. I had to give 55 pounds, but, as horses are going, that
does not seem much out of the way. He is a good river-horse, and very
strong. A horse is an absolute necessity in this settlement; he is your
carriage, your coach, and your railway train.
On Friday I went to Port Lyttelton, meeting on the way many of our late
fellow-passengers - some despondent, some hopeful; one or two dinnerless
and in the dumps when we first encountered them, but dinnered and
hopeful when we met them again on our return. We chatted with and
encouraged them all, pointing out the general healthy, well-conditioned
look of the residents. Went on board. How strangely changed the ship
appeared! Sunny, motionless, and quiet; no noisy children, no
slatternly, slipshod women rolling about the decks, no slush, no washing
of dirty linen in dirtier water. There was the old mate in a clean
shirt at last, leaning against the mainmast, and smoking his yard of
clay; the butcher close - shaven and clean; the sailors smart, and
welcoming us with a smile. It almost looked like going home. Dined in
Lyttelton with several of my fellow-passengers, who evidently thought it
best to be off with the old love before they were on with the new, i.e.
to spend all they brought with them before they set about acquiring a
new fortune. Then went and helped Mr. and Mrs. R. to arrange their new
house, i.e. R. and I scrubbed the floors of the two rooms they have
taken with soap, scrubbing-brushes, flannel, and water, made them
respectably clean, and removed his boxes into their proper places.
Saturday. - Rode again to port, and saw my case of saddlery still on
board. When riding back the haze obscured the snowy range, and the
scenery reminded me much of Cambridgeshire. The distinctive marks which
characterise it as not English are the occasional Ti palms, which have a
very tropical appearance, and the luxuriance of the Phormium tenax. If
you strip a shred of this leaf not thicker than an ordinary piece of
string, you will find it hard work to break it, if you succeed in doing
so at all without cutting your finger. On the whole, if the road
leading from Heathcote Ferry to Christ Church were through an avenue of
mulberry trees, and the fields on either side were cultivated with
Indian corn and vineyards, and if through these you could catch an
occasional glimpse of a distant cathedral of pure white marble, you
might well imagine yourself nearing Milan. As it is, the country is a
sort of a cross between the plains of Lombardy and the fens of North
Cambridgeshire.
At night, a lot of Nelson and Wellington men came to the club. I was
amused at dinner by a certain sailor and others, who maintained that the
end of the world was likely to arrive shortly; the principal argument
appearing to be, that there was no more sheep country to be found in
Canterbury. This fact is, I fear, only too true. With this single
exception, the conversation was purely horsy and sheepy. The fact is,
the races are approaching, and they are the grand annual jubilee of
Canterbury.
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