Cirrus@Austlit

A letter to Mrs. Marian Clarke in which Lord Rosebery expresses his appreciation for her wish to dedicate the volume to him. He also discusses the impact Marcus Clarke's works had upon him personally, and his estimation of their cultural significance.

Sketches Marcus Clarke's life, beginning with his birth in Kensington, London, in 1846, outlining his personal and professional life, and lamenting his untimely death.

The story takes the form of the diary of a day, beginning at 5am and continuing through to 11pm, in which the vagaries of the weather and its effects upon the body are noted.

The narrator leaves work early on Christmas Eve so that he can call in to the shops and purchase some Christmas presents for his family. Upon leaving the store he finds his pocket has been 'picked'. He arrives home and opens the door upon domestic upheaval, with his wife and four children all coping with various disasters, and thus begins a very chaotic Christmas.

Diary entry of a day in the life of a drunkard who cannot cope with any situation unless fortified by alcohol.

'Borrowing' is a euphemism the narrator uses to describe his manner of acquiring whatever he may need or want.

The narrator tells of how his alcoholism was 'cured' by observing the eating habits of a travelling teetotaller. The teetotaller had assured him that abstinence from alcohol would improve his constitution. The narrator was convinced by the man's ability to consume old Bullocky Joe's sausages, with 'doggy' dreams being the only consequence.

The narrator, Q., discourses on the habits of the self-proclaimed intellectuals of Australian colonial society.

The narrator, Q., observes that to be a 'business man' is the pinnacle of success and achievement in life. He laments that, regardless of what else he has accomplished, he is a failure because he does not have a business head.

The narrator chronicles his observations of people who have developed the talent of enjoying life without having to expend much of their own efforts or money.

'A Bazaar', comments the narrator, 'is a place where you buy things you don't want, for the benefit of people you dont [sic] care about, and pay ten times more for them than you do anywhere else'. They are, however, wonderful occasions for inspecting potential marriage partners.

'Friends as a rule are a mistake' proclaims Q., the narrator, for 'they are too expensive'. He has also found that friends require deft handling in order not to cause unintended offence. He has therefore forsworn them, 'except as a gentle stimulant and in case of sickness'.

Parents, aunts, uncles, in-laws all present different challenges, according to the narrator, but most difficult of all are the cousins.

'What becomes of all the New Chums?' ponders the narrator. Though they arrive in droves, they soon meld unobserved into the scramble of colonial life and become indiscernible.

Reflecting on the buoyant and carefree nature of boys, the narrator laments the passing of time and lapses into nostalgic reminiscing. He expresses his hope that modern boys will not squander their youth as he and his generation did.

The narrator disparagingly describes the attitudes of certain educated elites who espouse one set of values, but practice another.

A description of the working life of a 'sharebroker', and the daily demands of such employment.

A sketch of a 'typical' committee-man, who is a paragon of public and private virtue always willing to volunteer his help. However, upon such a man's death, it will often be found that he has stealthily been pilfering money or goods from those he has helped.

A description of the nature and propensities of carriage drivers in which Australian 'carmen' are found to be more agreeable than the English, although both are found wanting in several ways.