Australian Tales - Setis

usually as thick as tanner's refuse, or Thames mixture.”
“You must see the Upper Yarra before you leave, sir,” said Mr. Titler,
smiling. “Though I fear it will make poor Paramatta River appear to your
fancy, in future, as unromantic as its mud oyster banks at low tide. That
is our new General Post Office, or rather a part of it,” he added, stopping
short and gazing exultingly before a magnificent building in course of
erection, large enough — in the opinion of one patriotic old Victorian
lady — to hold all the letters in the world. “What do you think of our
new Post Office, sir?”
“It is much finer than our old one; but how it will compare with our
new one I cannot positively say just now,” replied Mr. Moans, who could
not fail to be struck with the extent and the ornateness of the structure.
“Have you a building in Sydney to equal it?” asked Mr. Titler, with more
Victorian pride than he had before exhibited.
“Yes, I think our University excels it. But, as I am not an architect, my
judgment may be at fault. When you come to Sydney, I will show you
some private buildings which will surprise you.”
“Humph! — have you been to our Public Library, Mr. Moans?” said
Mr. Titler, looking like a rifleman who had just hit the bull's-eye.
“I have, sir, and was very much pleased with my visit. In all my travels
I have not seen a Public Library equal to it, out of London; and I wish we
had one only half as good in Sydney. It is an honour to your colony, as
well as an inestimable boon to the population, and your statesmen have
shown wise foresight in thus caring for the moral and intellectual
improvement of the people. Vast as must have been the cost of that noble
institution, it is money well laid out, and will probably save a hundred
times that amount to future rulers in the gaol and police estimates; while
in a higher point of view, the blessings it may confer on this young
nation are incalculable.”
“You have not such fine wide streets in Sydney as these, Mr. Moans,”
said Mr. Titler, who was evidently pleased at the last observations of his
friend.
“We have not, sir; nor yet such wide gutters to cross in wet weather,
and to crack our carriage springs at the street junctions. I suppose it to be
on account of the low level of your city that you have these gaping drains
in every street. But I cannot say that the sewerage of our City of Sydney
is as perfect as it might be made, considering our natural facilities for
drainage.”
“If we had such facilities in Melbourne,” said Mr. Titler, “we should
have had underground sewers in every street long ago. But we have
plenty of Yan Yean water to flush our gutters in dry weather, so we are
not much inconvenienced by foul odours.”
“I wish I could say the same of our Sydney gutters,” said Mr. Moans.
“In many parts the citizens are very much annoyed by the effluvium from