of a conveyance of some kind, and to engage store-room. Weevel commenced his watchful duties by seating himself upon a box and mournfully examining his miserable self in the looking-glass in his hat; the result of the scrutiny seemed only to increase his wretchedness, and with a piteous sigh the unfortunate gentleman buried his face in his hands, and in that attitude remained.
Hugh's first object was, to find out the merchant upon whom his bill was drawn. He tried in vain to discover something like a street, but the houses and stores were spread about as if they had been each built as it best suited the whim of the proprietor. After some inquiry, they obtained from a colonist these rather peculiar directions:—"Carry the setting sun upon your left shoulders and the rising moon behind, and go straight on eend until you run your noses agin a post and rail fence—that's Binns's." Hugh looked in the man's face—there was no doubt he was seriously intending to direct the inquirers correctly and to the best of his abilities. Seeing they were new comers and rather puzzled to comprehend the instructions given, the goodnatured colonist set their faces in the direction he wished them to go, and went his way. After twenty minutes spent in tumbling over logs and such like impediments, our two friends were delighted to see before them a fence, and on a large board nailed against a tree "Binns, General Merchant." They soon discovered the store, and were fortunate in finding the owner within.
Having transacted their business, the merchant sent his horse and dray with them to bring up the boxes, previously exacting a promise that they would return with Weevel and dine. On reaching the wharf they found Weevel in nearly the same position in which they had left him—in fact he was asleep. A small party of natives had stationed themselves around him and
