"Who?" said Peter, abstractedly.

"Why, Gentleman Once."

Peter roused himself.

"Well, I've told the story, and it is about time to turn in," he said.
"I can't say exactly what Gentleman Once did when his wife died. He
might have gone down to a deeper depth than Danny's. He might have risen
higher than he had ever been before. From what I knew of his character
he would never have gone down an easy slope as Danny has done. He might
have dropped plump at first and then climbed up. Anyway, he had the
memory of the last two years to help him.

"Then there's the reformed drunkard who has trained himself to take
a drink when he needs it, to drink in moderation--he's the strongest
character of all, I think--but it's time to turn in."

The cornet up the creek was playing a march.

Peter walked across and looked at Danny, who seemed to be sleeping as
peacefully as could be expected of him.

Jack Barnes got up and walked slowly down the creek in the moonlight. He
wanted to think.

Peter rolled out his blankets on the grass and arranged his saddle-bags
for a pillow. Before he turned in Mitchell shook hands with him, a most
unusual and unnecessary proceeding in camp. But there's something in the
bush grip which means "I know," or "I understand."

Joe Wilson rolled out his blankets close to Mitchell's camp; he wanted
to enjoy some of Mitchell's quiet humour before he went to sleep, but
Mitchell wasn't in a philosophical mood. He wanted to reflect.

"I wonder who Gentleman Once was?" said Joe to Mitchell. "Could he have
been Danny, or old Awful Example back there at the shanty?"

"Dunno," said Mitchell. He puffed three long puffs at his pipe, and then
said, reflectively:

"I've heard men tell their own stories before to-night Joe."

It was Joe who wanted to think now.

About four o'clock Mitchell woke and stood up. Peter was lying rolled
in his blanket with his face turned to the west. The moon was low, the
shadows had shifted back, and the light was on Peter's face. Mitchell
stood looking at him reverently, as a grown son might who sees his
father asleep for the first time. Then Mitchell quietly got some boughs
and stuck them in the ground at a little distance from Peter's head, to
shade his face from the bright moonlight; and then he turned in again to
sleep till the sun woke him.

THE GHOSTS OF MANY CHRISTMASES

Did you ever trace back your Christmas days?--right back to the days
when you were inn