The Squatter's Dream by Rolf Boldrewood — Read

"But dreary though the moments fleet, / O let me think we yet shall meet. " -- _Burns._

Jack came back next morning rather "picked-up" after Mrs. Backwell's kindly talk, and Drawe's dahlias, and a stroll by the "loud-sounding sea," which looked to him as if it belonged in its glory and freshness to another world which he should soon quit and never revisit. He was sufficiently invigorated to try all the banks -- the Denominational, the London Bartered, the Polynesian, the Irish, Welsh, and Cornish, the Occidental, the Alexandra, the United, and so on. It was of no avail. At the majority he was informed that the bank was not prepared to take up fresh squatting accounts at present. At some he was requested to call after the next Board day; but the answer, varied and euphemized, was "No," in all cases. Then he tried the mercantile firms, the old-standing English or Australian houses, which, in spite of the assumed supposed American domination in all things in the colony of Victoria, had held the lead, and kept their pride of place since the pre-auriferous days. With them, and the great wool-dealing firms, the same answer only could be obtained. They would advance anything in reason upon the coming clip, or on any given number of sheep, at market rates; but, as to "taking-up" a fresh account of that magnitude, they were "not prepared."