Brisbane’s newspaper classifieds were enlivened considerably in the 1870s by a gentleman who signed himself “Lewis the Swift.” Lewis was a builder by trade, willing to quote on big jobs and small, and able to branch out into sanitary works, business agency and just about anything his lively business mind turned to.
His ads are glorious. He apparently had legions of skilled tradesmen at his command, and was prepared to send them far and wide, but at “smiling prices.” He entered into the earth closet business “like wildfire” and kindly offered local sugar cane growers “guano” deliveries, as long as no steep hills were involved in its transportation. The guano in question was no doubt a by-product of his Sanitary Reform endeavours, and the problem of steep hills for cartage of same, I will leave to your imagination.
Then he diversified again, becoming a business agent, architect and project manager – all with smiling prices and a double turn of the wrist.
Slow, pious men at reduced prices,1871
Lewis, the Agent for Justice,1873
Into earth closets like wildfire – 1874
Situations vacant to those with life and brains
The tight buckskin breeches army
What to do with all that, er, product?
Lewis the Swift, Lewis the Good, diversifies
1875
1878
By the winter of 1879, Lewis the Swift was waxing philosophical, and running longer advertisements than ever.
YOUNG LEWIS TO THE FRONT. EDWIN LEWIS informs his clear brain patrons – those patrons with smooth faces like ladies – that his time is too valuable to him to waste by going to sit and hear the yarn “Why I left the Church,” & c., Every member of the community shall have my consent to leave or go back to any church or chapel they think proper, and I will not ask them to waste their time in telling me the reason, as it does not affect me in the slightest. When I read the remarks poured out on the clergy, I thank my good old father heartily for not putting me to the trade of learning to be a parson. I often smile when thinking of young O’Sullivan’s (the MLA) words about the old woman’s top shelf. It will apply first-class to the above. Also, put religion in a sieve, and sift the money out of it – you will want spectacles to find the remainder. This is the last verse from the last chapter. Another more important matter — Lewis has nearly completed the new fever ward, although he had six weeks’ rain at the commencement to contend with, and five or six other buildings in hand at the same time. He has made the Government smile. They say what a good little fellow that Lewis is! Why in a month’s time the large and first-class structure will be completed! Young Lewis is prepared to give estimates, take contracts, and knock it off the reel with the double turn of the wrist, sharp and first-class workmanship at smiling prices. He has got as fine a lot of joiners as ever entered the colonies. There are no loafers or hangers on, and every man Jack has to earn his honest dollar, or he does not get it; and when he does get it, he takes double care of it, as he had to give the value of it. Lewis informs merchants, drapers and clubhouses, grocers, and shopkeepers that he will do any class or work cheap and quick, and I will not ask any of them, as I don’t care what church they belong to. Those about to build would do well to confer a short time with Lewis, as he would give them his best advice. Yes, and advice they would not regret receiving, as there are architects that Lewis would not tender under. Also, there are house agents Lewis would not work for. There is a little of Cromwell about Lewis the Good. My workmanship I would invite the closest inspection. Go over the two first-class warehouses that I built in Elizabeth-street, next to the old skating rink, Mr Hunter’s buildings, and judge for yourself. And to show the confidence that James Hunter, Esquire, had in Lewis the Swift, as he was going to Sydney, he gave me a cheque for £600, at the same time his buildings were not commenced. This is confidence we all want in each other. This is the religion that would stop all bickering and smartness. EDWIN LEWIS, BUILDER, Surnamed the Good. July 1879
The lively advertising stops abruptly in March 1880, and we learn why shortly afterwards. Alfred Edwin Lewis, one of the most original minds ever to set up shop in Brisbane, died suddenly at the age of 54. The town must have been much duller for his passing.
The same old Joe as ever
At first, I was puzzled. Was this Joe person a repentant former defector from Freemasonry? And was this some form of public apology? No, it was a chap who couldn’t sell his pub.
Need a place to lay your head and park your bullock team?
Look no further.
Joseph “Joe” Marshall was the proprietor of the Freemasons Arms Hotel at Rockhampton from the late 1860s to the 1870s, and in the course of those years managed some fairly quite entertaining promotions over the years. He was always denying that he was selling out, and reminding all and sundry that he was the same old Joe.
Not one to be messed with
How does one prove that they have eaten fatter geese?
No doubt Toowoomba was quite miffed…
Joe sells up at last
All good things come to an end, and Joe Marshall did finally sell the Freemason’s Arms, and went out with a typically jolly announcement. Mr Marshall moved to Sydney and became a gentleman, passing away in the early 20th century.
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