I hardly knew him at first. His own mother wouldn’t, I believe. He’d altered himself that wonderful as I could hardly even now think it was Starlight; and yet he wasn’t a bit like the young Englishman he gammoned to be last year, or the Hon. Frank Haughton either. He had an eyeglass this time, and was a swell from top to toe. How and when he’d picked up with the Mr. Dawsons I couldn’t tell; but he’d got a knack of making people like him—especially when they didn’t know him. Not that it was worse when they did. It wasn’t for that. He was always the same. The whitest man I ever knew, or ever shall—that I say and stick to—but of course people can’t be expected to associate with men that have “done time.”

Well, next day was the races. I never saw such a turn out in the colony before. Every digger on the field had dropped work for the day; all the farmers, and squatters, and country people had come in for miles round on all sides. The Commissioner and all the police were out in full uniform, and from the first moment the hotels were opened in the morning till breakfast time all the bars were full, and the streets crowded with miners and strangers and people that seemed to have come from the ends of the earth. When I saw the mob there was I didn’t see so much to be jerran about, as it was fifty to one in favour of anyone that was wanted, in the middle of such a muster of queer cattle as was going on at Turon that day.

About eleven o’clock everyone went out to the course. It wasn’t more than a mile from town. The first race wasn’t to be run till twelve; but long before that time the road was covered with horse men, traps of every kind and sort, every horse and mare in the whole district.

Most of the miners went in four-horse coaches and ‘buses that were plying all day long from the town and back; very few walked. The country people mostly drove in spring-carts, or rode on horseback. Any young fellows that had a good horse liked to show him off, of course; the girls in habits of their own make, perhaps, and now and then a top hat, though they looked very well too. They could ride, some of them, above a bit, and it made me think of the old days when Jim and I and Aileen used to ride into Bargo races together, and how proud we were of her, even when she was a little thing, and we used to groom up the old pony till we nearly scrubbed the hide off him.