CHAPTER VII.

THE REGATTA.

REGATTA day is the very carnival of Hobart Town. It is anticipated by young folks months beforehand. Every girl must have some extra bit of finery by that day, and every lad of the place is either hard at his oar, or a hard student in general naval affairs.

And yet it is not a carnival after the Italian type. The fun does not consist in the throwing of bonbons, or the scattering of lime-powder. The sport is not in a street race of horses, cruelly barbed to make them run. It is a Saturnalia without its vices. It is not a Cashmere Feast of Roses, in which woman is the toy or slave. It has not the solemn grandeur of the Doge's annual wedding of the Adriatic, when all eyes are fixed upon the gilded Gondola and the richly robed president of the awful Ten.

Fun there is, but that in which children and old men take their share. It is, nevertheless, a Feast of Roses, for flowers at the beginning of gay December are in their height of glory. The June of England is far less brilliant than the Tasmanian December. Gardens are crowded with floral favourites, and the bush is a very carpet of flowers. It is no street festival, for the town is emptied of people. All are thronging to the adjoining public pleasure-ground, the undulating and verdant Government domain. There is room, and

to spare; for lots of couples find ample opportunities to stray beneath the shade of the forest, or wander along the shore, without fear of eavesdroppers.

Tasman's discovery of the island, in 1642, is kept in the memory of the juveniles by this festive occasion. The Dutchman, as he listened to the strange coo-ee of the sable tribes, and as he looked upon the strange Flora of the new lands, little thought that hearty lads and bonnie lassies of his own colour would laugh in those bright glades, and sing songs in honour of his enterprise.

And what sport was so suitable for the sons of Britons as that upon the main Britannia rules so long! What more agreeable to the ghost of the worthy Dutch navigator than deeds of oar and sail!

All the Douglas family were there. The day was as bright as a first of June in the old country. The sun came forth as if personally interested in the affair. How determined every one seemed to be as gay as Nature herself on the occasion! What a day of days it was to the dear children! They verily believed the regatta was instituted wholly on their account. How they did laugh and chatter! And how those merry cicada in the trees trumpetted their very loudest from their insect instruments! The wind neither sighed nor blustered, but danced along with a lively briskness, as if it quite understood it had its work to do, and that thousands of bright eyes were looking for its performances upon the spreading sails.

The new arrivals were charmed with everything. It was the very place for a boat race. There was plenty of room at the Cove. The River Derwent was three miles across. Tacking room could be had, and yet the crafts keep in sight all the way. Sailing was not without its danger there, as sudden gusts rush down the mountain gullies, and sweep across the waters, with a violence that calls for skill and courage.

But what a panorama! To the right was the picturesquely situated Hobart Town. Before one was the broad stream, bounded by farms, by pastures, by woods. Bays stretched hither and thither, as if nestling under romantic cliffs, or seeking the reflected beauty of the shore. Mountains reared near and afar, the circumscribing ornaments of the landscape. But high above all mounted the head of Wellington, the colossal genius of the place, calmly regarding the sports of that day as it had beheld unmoved the evershifting scenes of rolling centuries.'

'The band-the band!' shout the boys, who dart through the trees to greet the military music.

'Ain't they going to start yet?' asks an impatient little fellow.

But though all came on purpose to see the regatta, there were numbers so happily engaged that time did not hang heavily for them. There were swings in the trees, balls on the green, gambols up in the foliage, fruit and provender in exposed baskets, and tricks and fun everywhere, for children. The old folks were

seated more tranquilly on the grass, chatting about the times when they were young, and feeling nothing like so old that day. Married pairs had all the responsibility of heaps of tarts, of sandwiches, of oranges, &c., &c., together with the pleasing worry of their little

ones.

There was another class not less happy. They were not so flurried as the responsible parties, not so excited as the noisy youngsters, and not so placid as the old folks from home. But they were busy in their way, and thoroughly enjoying themselves. A considerable portion had paired themselves off, even though grouped together. Amusements were more agreeable for the particular presence of the particular other one by the side. There were some young fellows who herded together, as if disdaining to be ‘always with those girls.' And there were sundry parties of merry lassies playing apart, though casting quizzing, if not longing, glances at the wandering and really discontented young fellows.

'Well, my dear,' said Mrs Douglas, 'I am delighted to see so many happy people here. And how nicely they are dressed!'

'Yes,' rejoined the husband, and how well behaved! I am sure no holiday in Great Britain could be kept like this. No rude pushing, no coarse swearing, no vulgar drinking, as in the old country.'

Just then their friend, Mr Roberts, walked up, and shouted forth,

'What do you think of us convicts of Van Diemen's

D

Land now, old fellow? Are we not a pretty set of blackguards?' At this he laughed out right heartily.

'Indeed, Roberts, I was remarking to my wife that the old country couldn't match them in manners. I am as surprised at the turn-out of pretty faces as she is at the pretty dresses. The children swarm out like rabbits, and are the very pictures of healthy good humour.'

'Then, if ever you should write to the "Times," as every respectable old gentleman threatens to do every day, don't forget to give us a character. I'll be bound some of your Indian friends sighed over your sacrifice of good taste in going to a land 'where every man is vile.'

'I was

Ha ha!' laughed out the Captain. assured that there was a satisfactory reason why the animal called the Devil should be found only in Tasmania.'

'But did you know,' put in the friend, 'that this fellow never shows his ugly face in the day, and will never look at anything but a sheep or rat at night?'

All were ready at last. The several races were set forth in the programme of the occasion. Of course there was a Publicans' Purse for one prize. There were others given by the officers, the governor, the people. There were crafts of this tonnage and that. There were boats of four oars and six oars.

What a roar of voices rose as the cannon boomed for the start! How the youngsters left off their individual