Summary

Portrait of Henry Parkes 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.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Henry Parkes Henry Parkes An emigrant's home letters — Letter Twenty-Eight (1896)

Give my love to my brothers. If we never meet again may their years be many and their share of happiness large. That they may go down to the grave in honour and peace will ever be his prayer who is far away.
I thank you sincerely for the sweet words of consolation and advice which you send me over the wide, wide sea. You also have my thanks for the news you send me about old Brummagen. You have a poet and a poetess, have you? You do not seem to be aware that the greatest poetical personage of Birmingham is now living with us at the Antipodes.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Henry Parkes Henry Parkes An emigrant's home letters — Letter Twenty-Eight (1896)

And Clarinda and I have little to ameliorate the exile's lot; we have neither wealth nor friends, and the very means of comfort afforded us is in itself a source of discomfort, for it separates us, who have none other for the weary heart to lean upon. Still we have much to be thankful for, and I trust we are truly thankful. And, God willing, the time shall come when all who know us at Birmingham shall acknowledge that we are honourable.
Source: Wikisource

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