ing. Thinking, with a touch of his boyhood's faith
perhaps; or wondering what he had done in his long, hard-working married
life, that God should do this thing to him now, of all times.

"You'd best take what money we have in the camp, Tom; you'll want it
all ag'in' the time you get back from Sydney, and we can fix it up
arterwards.... There's a couple o' clean shirts o' mine--you'd best take
'em--you'll want 'em on the voyage.... You might as well take them there
new pants o' mine, they'll only dry-rot out here--and the coat, too,
if you like--it's too small for me, anyway. You won't have any time in
Perth, and you'll want some decent togs to land with in Sydney."

. . . . .

"I wouldn't 'a' cared so much if I'd 'a' seen the last of her," he said,
in a quiet, patient voice, to us one night by the rail. "I would 'a'
liked to have seen the last of her."

"Have you been long in the West?"

"Over two years. I made up to take a run across last Christmas, and have
a look at 'em. But I couldn't very well get away when 'exemption-time'
came. I didn't like to leave the claim."

"Do any good over there?"

"Well, things brightened up a bit the last month or two. I had a hard
pull at first; landed without a penny, and had to send back every
shilling I could rake up to get things straightened up a bit at home.
Then the eldest boy fell ill, and then the baby. I'd reckoned on
bringing 'em over to Perth or Coolgardie when the cool weather came, and
having them somewheres near me, where I could go and have a look at 'em
now and then, and look after them."

"Going back to the West again?"

"Oh, yes. I must go for the sake of the youngsters. But I don't seem
to have much heart in it." He smoked awhile. "Over twenty years we
struggled along together--the missus and me--and it seems hard that I
couldn't see the last of her. It's rough on a man."

"The world is damned rough on a man sometimes," said Mitchell, "most
especially when he least deserves it."

The digger crossed his arms on the rail like an old "cocky" at the fence
in the cool of the evening, yarning with an old crony.

"Mor'n twenty years she stuck to me and struggled along by my side. She
never give in. I'll swear she was on her feet till the last, with
her sleeves tucked up--bustlin' round.... And just when things was
brightening and I saw a chance of giving her a bit of a rest and comfort
for the end of her life.... I thought of it all only t'other w