Читать книгу Rambles in Australia онлайн

6 страница из 43

That is another outstanding recollection: the publishing office with two clerks, one rather sleepy, the other painstakingly deciphering an obituary notice which a small girl had brought in. When he had at last made it out, and felt that he could leave the office for a few minutes in charge of his companion, he put on his hat and said he would come with me. So he did. As a matter of history his kindness was unavailing, except to make me feel that Australia was filled with friends, for the office we wanted was vacant. So back I went through the gaunt streets and on to the railway station, where I was too new to the country to disregard the notice that smoking was not allowed on the platform; and presently the train was again taking me back to the suburb of Cottesloe Beach.

This was a country railway station, evidently. Just like one at home, to the two lighted shops just outside, and the white road stretching up a hill in the starlight. The road up which I was directed was dotted with houses wide apart; with shaded lamps which I could see through the shrubs; and now and again a piano tinkling. It was very still. At last I found the house I sought. Very white, with trees about it, and a windmill for its well; and windows lighted for the stranger. No; not the stranger, but the unknown, welcome guest. The gate in the wooden fence was swung back; there was a light in the hall; and the hall door was wide open, though the hall was empty. And that was how I thought then, and have always thought of Australia. It is the “Land of the Unlatched Door.”