Henry Parkes,
An emigrant's home letters — Letter Twenty-Eight
(1896)
“ There is a man now passing before my eyes well worth describing. Imagine yourself standing by me on the deck of a small schooner lying in Sydney harbour. There is a miserable-looking old man paddling an old canoe from the Sydney side to the opposite shore. The face is unshorn, and his beard and hair are as white as snow. As his vessel glides over the sunny waters he casts his 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. ”
