Far away lies the lowland; and every breeze of heaven sweeps over the crests of the hills.

So one peculiarly tall palm was chosen for a central landmark, an ornament to the town square such as no capital in Europe can boast.

Traces were cut, streets laid out, lots of Crown lands put up for sale, and settlers invited in the name of the Government.
Scarcely eighteen months had passed since then, and already there Mitchell Street, Violin Street, Duboulay Street, Farfan Street, had each its new houses built of cedar and thatched with palm.

Two Chinese shops had Celestials with pigtails and thick-soled shoes grinning behind cedar counters, among stores of Bryant's safety matches, Huntley and Palmers' biscuits, and Allsopp's pale ale.

A church had been built, the shell at least, and partly floored, with a very simple, but not tasteless, altar; the Abbe had a good house, with a gallery, jalousies, and white china handles to the doors.