Fortunate
sentence! On my arrival in New South Wales, as I was found a perfect
gentleman, and fit for nothing, there was no resource but to make me try
the labour of my hands. Fortunate labour! From six at morning till six
at night, I had the spade or the plough in my hands. I dragged carts, I
delved rocks, I hewed trees; I had not a moment to spare. The appetite
that once grew languid over venison, now felt the exquisite delight of
junk beef. The thirst that scorned champagne was now enraptured with
spring water. The sleep that had left me many a night tossing
within-side the curtains of a hundred-and-fifty-guinea Parisian bed, now
came on the roughest piece of turf, and made the planks of my cabin
softer than down. I can now run as fast as one of my Newmarket stud,
pull down a buffalo, and catch a kangaroo by the tail in fair field.
Health, vigour, appetite, and activity, are my superabundance now. I
have every thing but time. My banishment expires to-morrow; but I shall
never recross the sea. This is my country. Since I set my foot upon its
shore I have never had a moment to yawn.
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