John Caldigate

particularly civil each to the other and went to work together, making arrangements at a bank as to their money, taking their places,

should be bygones. Caldigate, on the other hand, acknowledged to himself that he owed some reparation to his companion. Of course he had not bound himself to any special mode of life;- but had he, in his present condition, allied himself more closely to Mrs. Smith, he would, to some extent, have thrown Dick over. And then, as soon as he was on shore, he did feel somewhat ashamed of himself in regard to Mrs. Smith. Was it

thrown herself in his way had she pleased. Strangers residing in such a town are almost sure to see each other before twenty-four hours are gone. But Mrs. Smith was not seen. Two or three times he went up and down Collins Street alone, without his friend, not wishing to see her,- aware that he had better not see her,- but made restless by a nervous feeling

ll at last they were told that they had reached Nobble. Nobble they thought was the foulest place which they had ever seen. It was a gold-digging town, as such places are called, and had been built with great rapidity to supply the necessities of adjacent miners. It was constructed altogether of wood, but no two houses had been constructed alike. They generally had gable ends opening on to the street, but were so different in breadth, altitude, and form, that it was easy to see that each enterprising proprietor had been his own architect. But they were all alike in having enormous advertisement-boards, some high, some broad, some sloping, on which were declared the merits of the tradesmen who administered within to the wants of mining humanity. And they had generally assumed most singular names for themselves 'The Old Stick-in-the-Mud Soft Goods Store.' 'The Pol

walking as the old Quad a

rn,' said Dick, who had just stumbled and nearly came to the gr

sitting a crowd of miners, drinking when our friends were ushered in through the bar or counter which faced to the street. At the bar they were received by a dirty old woman who said that she was Mrs. Henniker. Then they were told, while the convivial crowd were looking on and listening, that they could have the use of

ntance, within some hundred miles. The men around them were not uncivil. Australian miners never are so. But they were inquisitive, familiar, and with their half-drunken good-humour, almost repulsive. It was about noon when our friends reached Henniker's, and they were told that th

go on to Ahalala. 'We're going to have a spell at gold-digging,' said he. What was the use of making any secret of the matter? 'We knowed

owns,' said Di

next month, so as to get help till you know where you are, it may be you'll turn up gold at Ahalala;-

want nothing to dr

the lot myself.' Then the dirty old woman was summoned, and everybody had whisky all round. When that was done,

uided by that feeling, the man who had told the strangers that they need not be afraid of being robbed, at once selected six out of the bowl, and deposited three each before Dick and Caldigate. He helped the others all round to one each, and then was left without any for himself. 'I don't care a damn for that sort of tucker,' he said, as though he despised potatoes from the bottom of his heart. Of all the crew he was the dirtiest, and was certainly half drunk. Another man holloaed to 'Mother Henniker' for pickles; but Mother Henniker, without leaving her seat at the bar, told them to 'pickle themselves.' Whereupon one of the party, making some allusion to Jack Brien's swag,- Jack Brien being absent at the moment,- rose from his seat and undid a great roll lying in one of the corners. Every miner has his swag,- consisting of a large blanket which is rolled up, and contains all his personal luggage. Out

e distributor of the potatoes, nodding his

is he had not spoken a word, nor did he speak again till he had consumed three or four pounds of beef, and had swallowed two pannikins of tea. Then he repeated his speech: 'There isn't so -- -- an infernal, mean, break-hearted a place as Ahalala,-

gold there?' a

you may find it, or you mayn't. That's where it is;- and

work for wages,

go to one of the old-fashioned places,- Bendigo, or the like of that. I've worked for wages, but what comes of it? A man goes

t and hitching up his trousers as he left the room.

ystery of shouting. When one man 'stands' drinks all round, he shouts; and then it is no more than reciprocal that another man shou

body had done well at Nobble, Mr. Crinkett had done well. He was the 'swell' of the place. This informant did not think that Mr. Crinkett had himself gone very deep at Ahalala. Mr. Crinkett had risen high enough in

wo, if he likes,' said the new fri

that he had come to Nobble armed with a letter from a gentl

him there's nothing he wouldn't sell,- not even his grandmother's bones. I like trade, myself,' a

reviously. On the tops of these artificial hills there were sundry rickety-looking erections, and around them were troughs and sheds and rude water-works. These, as the miner explained were the outward and visible signs of the world-famous 'Old Stick-in-the-Mud' claim, which was now giving two ounces of gold to the ton of quartz, and which was at present the exclusive property of Mr. Crinkett, who had bought out the tribute shareholders and was working the thing altogether on his own bottom. As they ascended one of those mounds of upcast stones and rubble, they could see on the other