Chapter I: The Men

Adelaide is largely inhabited by the type of man that wears celluloid collars, and travels on coastal boats--to be sure there are a few male inhabitants who have neither qualification, but these are mainly bankrupt, and therefore do not count. It is fairly safe to assume their bankruptcy is due to their contempt for celluloid collars, and their disregard of Adelaide’s social laws, combined, in many cases, with a large devotion to Bacchus.

Edward Lauri, when in Adelaide recently, remarked that the local men were the best caricature-types he had ever seen. “They nearly all look exactly alike,” he said, “and they never change! In another five years they will look just as they look to-day. They are now wearing the same shaped hats, collars, and ties, and the same suits of clothes that they wore when I was here eighteen months ago!”

Assuming this statement to be true, it will be understood that they are not very exhilarating to meet--always excepting the bankrupts we alluded to before, some of whom are gay young bucks. Most of the Village’s male population have married barmaids, nurses, or money, so the social atmosphere is not as high as it might be. They grow weird hirsute adornments in the shape of beards and whiskers. The only men who grow a self-respecting moustache are the coachmen, and with them it is an unnecessary adjunct, detracting much from the beauty of their appearance. Certainly they have some recipe for growing a moustache unknown to the bulk of male Adelaide, judging by the finely-decorated upper lips I have seen on the box-seats of grubby-looking carriages.

Younger male Adelaide is intelligent--in many cases almost brilliant--but, hampered by ridiculous conventionalities, it rarely fulfils its early promise. A few have risen superior to their environments, and these have done the wisest thing possible--left Adelaide far behind, and gone to better places.

Some few men have made fortunes here, and these almost always--with pardonable ingratitude!--go elsewhere to spend their wealth.

You men of Adelaide--poor, narrow-minded fools most of you!--would that you could learn, before it is too late, what good things you are missing--would that you could realise that there may be some good in people (and places) who do not share your own prejudices.

From all of which sweeping statement I exempt two classes--the Post Office officials and the Railway employés. I have never received more kindly courtesy anywhere than from these departments here--(I refer chiefly to the heads of the departments) and for their unfailing kindness and attention I thank them. These officials will always take precedence in my mind as the most valuable assets in Adelaide.

One thing more--if any remarks in the foregoing chapter have offended any of my few friends here, I would ask them to remember that, being friends, they are of necessity exceptions!