n herd congregate in their libations, and in the other
the coffee-room; where the more exalted lords of the creation assemble
to discuss, at the same time, the liquors and edibles of mine host,
their own local politics, and bucolic topics; ever the subjects of
paramount importance to the squatter.

In all probability, the next habitation will be a slab hut, roofed with
sheets of bark; the whole structure standing on a spot of ground about
eight feet square, not even dignified or protected by a fence, and
contrasting strangely with the adjoining property. Here we will have an
enclosure of about an acre of ground; displaying, in its tastefully laid
out grass plots and flower beds, the neatly trimmed creepers, and the
air of order and comfort about the pretty little cottage which stands in
the centre of this Eden, the taste for refinement, tranquillity,
permanent settlement, and happiness, so rarely to be met with in the
bush. The cottage is a square four-roomed one, with detached kitchen and
out-houses. It is built of what are called weather boards, that is
planks sawn diagonally so as to be of the thickness of about one inch at
one edge, and about a quarter of an inch on the other. In the
construction of such a house, the form, or skeleton, is erected first,
and these boards are then affixed so as to overlap one another; each
plank as it is put on being made to cover, with its thick side, the thin
edge of the one preceding it: thus being alike impervious to wind and
weather. The roof is shingled, or, in other words, covered with pieces
of wood split into much the same shape as narrow slates, and put on in a
similar manner. The cottage has a verandah on its front, enclosed by a
small railing, tastefully painted, and ornamented with a few running
plants, which intwine its posts; and, while charming the eye, lend the
delicacy of their fragrance to render to this spot the enchantment of an
Arcadian bower, when the family adjourn thence from the interior of the
house, to enjoy the refreshing zephyrs of the summer evenings. The
windows facing this verandah are made to open in the French fashion, so
that, upon opening any one of them, a person can step out at once; they
are protected from the sun by venetians, which are generally folded
back, and which, with the railings of the verandah, are painted green,
while the house itself is scrupulously white. The door is of polished
cedar, and adorned with a bright brass knocker and pla