Australian Tales - Setis

Change of Scene, and Fresh Air.
MR. MOANS was as difficult to move as a dead elephant, when he had
a job in hand, as he called it. He was a busy old man, in his way, though
some of his neighbours wondered what trade he followed, for he made
no more noise with his tools than an old matron darning stockings. Long
after many folks in the city were asleep, a light was usually to be seen in
Mr. Moan's laboratory; and if any curious person had mounted to the
roof and peeped through his dormer window, they would have seen him
setting up specimens of various sorts, and looking as weary and worn as
most men do who sit up late at sedentary work.
His friends often advised him to try a change of scene and fresh air, to
recruit his diminishing strength, though they seldom persuaded him that
he needed a change. “Phoo!” he would exclaim, with a smile, “where in
the world can I find fresher air than is wafted through my window, from
the north-east? and where can I behold more enlivening scenes than the
verdant domain and the sparkling harbour afford, without the trouble of
moving from my bamboo chair? Only just peep out of my window, to
your right hand, and if you have a poet's or a painter's eye, you must be
charmed with the picturesque view of Darling Point, and the villacrowned
hills beyond; with Craig-end windmill in the foreground, and
St. Mark's church in the distance, with the light-house far away on the
cliffs! Change of scene indeed! Fiddle-dee-dee! ‘You'll find no change in
me,’ as the old song says.”
One day — not long ago — Captain Gimble called to see Mr. Moans;
and being an intimate friend, he was shown at once into the laboratory.
The captain, (who was a fine robust specimen of the bracing virtues of
fresh air, and salt water,) had been away on foreign voyages for several
years, so the pleasure of seeing him was proportionately great, and Mr.
Moan's yellow face shone with gladness. After a long and pleasant chat,
the captain pressingly invited his debilitated friend to spend a few days
on board his ship, before he sailed for Hong-Kong.
“My good friend!” whined Mr. Moans, passing his hand across his
brow, “I cannot spare time to go anywhere, for several months to come.
Besides, I have not so much faith in changes as some folks, who would
try to persuade me that moving about in strange places will put flesh on a
wooden leg. But, if I could take my work with me, I should very much
like to spend a few days on board the ‘Wild Duck,’ before you sail, for