The two travellers had yarned² late in their camp, and the moon was getting low down through the mulga. Mitchell's mate had just finished a rather racy yarn¹, but it seemed to fall flat on Mitchell—he was in a sentimental³ mood. He smoked a while, and thought, and then said:  
“Ah! there was one little girl that I was properly struck on. She came to our place on a visit to my sister. I think she was the best little girl that ever lived, and about the prettiest. She was just eighteen, and didn't come up to my shoulder; the biggest blue eyes you ever saw, and she had hair that reached down to her knees, and so thick you couldn't span it with your two hands—brown and glossy—and her skin with like lilies and roses. Of course, I never thought she'd look at a rough, ugly, ignorant brute⁴ like me, and I used to keep out of her way and act a little stiff towards her; I didn't want the others to think I was gone on her, because I knew they'd laugh at me, and maybe she'd laugh at me more than all. She would come and talk to me, and sit near me at table; but I thought that that was on account of her good nature, and she pitied me because I was such a rough, awkward chap. I was gone on that girl, and no joking; and I felt quite proud to think she was a countrywoman of mine. But I wouldn't let her know that, for I felt sure she'd only laugh.
 
“Well, things went on till I got the offer of two or three years' work on a station up near the border, and I had to go, for I was hard up; besides, I wanted to get away. Stopping round where she was only made me miserable⁵.
 
“The night I left they were all down at the station to see me off—including the girl I was gone on. When the train was ready to start she was standing⁶ away by herself on the dark end of the platform, and my sister kept nudging me and winking⁷, and fooling about, but I didn't know what she was driving at. At last she said:
 
“'Go and speak to her, you noodle; go and say good-bye to Edie.'
 
“So I went up to where she was, and, when the others turned their backs—
 
“'Well, good-bye, Miss Brown,' I said, holding out my hand; 'I don't suppose I'll ever see you again, for Lord knows when I'll be back. Thank you for coming to see me off.'
 
“Just then she turned her face to the light, and I saw she was crying. She was trembling all over. Suddenly she said, 'Jack

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