haggard countenance towards the bright blue sky above, and you hear him speaking vehemently in a jargon between French and English. Listen! You now hear him fiercely cursing God Almighty, and calling upon the devil. For twenty years past that white-headed and impious maniac has led the same life, cursing God every day as you hear him now. He is well-known to sailors frequenting Port Jackson by the name of 'French Peter.' In early life he was an officer of the French army, but having committed a murder at home he fled and sought refuge in Australia. Many years ago, when he first arrived, he became possessed of some property That patch of land by the water-side, which you now see occupied by Mr. West, was then his. That land, at the present time, is worth £10,000. He, growing a reckless drunkard, sold it for 16s. and a bottle of rum! For the last twenty years he has had no home, living in a hole in a rock on the north shore. Some days he brings over to Sydney a few oysters, and selling them buys bread. The iguanas have been known to steal his bread in the night, when in the morning he would come back to Sydney for more, declaring that the devil came when it was dark, and took away his bread. Whenever you see ' French
