One of these very poor
devils that I have in my mind has now a considerable fortune, with rooms
in a fashionable quarter of London, and in frock-coat and tall hat
"swells" it with the best!
How quickly men change to be sure! A man who at one time would "steal the
shirt off a dead black-fellow," in a few short months is complaining of
the taste of his wine or the fit of his patent-leather boots. Dame Fortune
was good to some, but to us, like many others, she turned a deaf ear, and
after many weeks' toil we had to give up the battle, for neither food,
money, nor gold had we. All I possessed was the pony, and from that old
friend I could not part. The fruits of our labours, or I should say my
share in them, I sent home in a letter, and the few pin's-heads of gold
so sent did not necessitate any extra postage. Weary and toil-worn we
returned to Coolgardie, and the partners of some rather remarkable
experiences split company, and went each his own way.
It is several years since I have seen Mr. Davies; but I believe Fortune's
wheel turned round for him at length, and that now he enjoys the rest that
his years and toils entitle him to. I have many kindly recollections of
our camping days together, and of the numerous yarns my mate used to spin
of his palmy days as a Queensland squatter.
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