"Not a friend," said she, smiling. "I never saw him before. I expect
he's only a successful digger."
Turn we now to the darker side of this picture.
My favourite walk, whilst in Melbourne, was over Prince's Bridge, and
along the road to Liardet's Beach, thus passing close to the canvas
settlement, called Little Adelaide. One day, about a week before we
embarked for England, I took my accustomed walk in this direction, and
as I passed the tents, was much struck by the appearance of a little
girl, who, with a large pitcher in her arms, came to procure some water
from a small stream beside the road. Her dress, though clean and neat,
bespoke extreme poverty; and her countenance had a wan, sad expression
upon it which would have touched the most indifferent beholder, and
left an impression deeper even than that produced by her extreme though
delicate beauty.
I made a slight attempt at acquaintanceship by assisting to
fill her pitcher, which was far too heavy, when full of water, for so
slight a child to carry, and pointing to the rise of ground on which
the tents stood, I inquired if she lived among them.
She nodded her head in token of assent.
"And have you been long here?
