Page:Rambles in Australia (IA ramblesinaustral00grewiala).pdf/178

 ground, all holes and hillocks, and now partly overgrown, where mining had formerly been carried on. Our destination was a hill of grey heaps and smoking chimneys. Even an Australian motor-car looked askance at the approach to it, so we walked up, for this was the mine we were asked to visit. We were shown into an office out of which opened two dressing-rooms. A litter of old boots was on the floor, the walls were hung with derelict felt hats and clean suits of butchers' blue overalls. Here we were asked to attire ourselves suitably for the occasion. It is an odd feeling that of walking out into the light of day for the first time untrammelled by skirts, but this agreeable sensation was detracted from by carrying several pounds' weight on either foot and by the difficulty of keeping on a large alien hat. Some other visitors were going down the mine, and one of the ladies' hats blew off. Retrieving it from the mud, a man politely offered her his own, a quite clean one, in exchange. It belonged to somebody else, but he had had the foresight to select it in the dressing-room in preference to those provided for visitors. We were each furnished with a tallow candle.

Going down a gold mine feels exactly like being one of a new box of Bryant and May's matches. A little two-storied platform takes