Sergeant Hobson of the Western Australia Police Force started his shift at five in March 1917. As he rode his bicycle along Beaufort Street, the early morning light struggled to break through the heavy clouds.
Ka-lop, ka-lop, ka-lop, ka-lop. A fast-moving horse put him on alert. Ka-lop, ka-lop, ka-lop. Where was it coming from? Ka-lop, ka-lop. It was too early for a horse to be travelling that fast. He stopped cycling, placed his feet on the ground, and held onto the handlebars as he listened. The sound became louder as the horse approached.
He looked north. No horse. He looked south. No horse. Puzzled, he looked north again. A driverless horse and buggy flew past his line of sight, travelling on the wrong side of the road. “Bloody hell,” he swore as he scrambled back onto his bicycle.
On 1 July 1899 it was reported at the Perth wholesale markets that there was “no great demand” for lemons. Such dismal market reports were of no consequence to the parks and reserves committee of the Perth City Council. Thinking of the future, they had come up with a plan that would beautify the streets (in a manner similar to the cities of San Francisco and Los Angeles) and make some money for the council on the side.
It was proposed, therefore, to recommend that Lisbon lemon trees be planted…