And yet there are sprinkled up and down the place a few substantial buildings; one belonging to the Company, on an enormous scale—­another good brick house to Mr. Hack—­another to the enterprising Mr. Gilles—­one to Mr. Thomas, and a couple of new taverns.  The rest of the dwellings are made of very slight materials, and the number of canvas tents and marquees give some parts of the settlement the appearance of a camp.  Most of the new-comers settle down on what is called the Park Lands, where they are handy to the little rivulet, and they run up a Robinson Crusoe sort of hut, with twigs and branches from the adjoining forest, and the climate being fine and dry, they answer well enough as temporary residences.  The principal streets have been laid out in the survey of the town 132 feet wide, which is nearly twice as wide as Portland Place, and the squares are all on such a scale of magnitude, that if there were any inhabitants in them, a cab would almost be required to get across them.

Before any person has been ashore at Adelaide twenty-four hours, even the greenest and most inexperienced put these two very natural questions; First—­Why did you make the plan of the future town so large?  Answer—­Because the land was of no value, and it was a pity to be crowded when there was so much room!  And the Second question is—­Why did you select the town eight miles from the landing-place?  Answer—­Because we preferred being away from the nasty sailors, and thought it better not to be annoyed with the demoralizing influence of a Sea Port!

Unless this is promptly remedied, the “Wisdom of our ancestors” will not become such a favourite saying in South Australia, as it is in the Old Country, for the town, including the park lands, is already eight miles round, with 3,000 inhabitants only.  This, from persons who are all for concentration, seems strange; and the consequence is as might have been expected, that in the daytime persons are constantly losing themselves in the midst of the city.  Whilst at night it is impossible to move out of the house without company, unless you have any desire to sleep under a tree.  This has happened to the oldest inhabitants, about whom many droll stories have been told.  Some of the highest officers in the colony, after wandering about for hours in the dark, either running against trees, or falling over logs, or into holes, have chosen rather to give it up in despair, content to take a night’s lodging beneath a tree, than run the risk any longer of breaking their necks although in the midst of the township, and when day-light appeared, not perhaps more than a pistol-shot from their own hut.  It is hardly possible that such a blunder as this is, this Adelaide and Port Adelaide, can much longer be tolerated by the respectable parties about proceeding to the Colony, and there is not the remotest chance that the unnatural abortion can ever come to good.  Another town of more modest and moderate pretensions will rise up in the land-locked