t I didn't take so much notice of
things.

There was no mistaking them--the little group that stood apart near the
end of the wharf, dressed in cheap black. There was the eldest single
sister--thin, pale, and haggard-looking--that had had all the hard
worry in the family till her temper was spoilt, as you could see by the
peevish, irritable lines in her face. She had to be the mother of them
all now, and had never known, perhaps, what it was to be a girl or a
sweetheart. She gave a hard, mechanical sort of smile when she saw her
father, and then stood looking at the boat in a vacant, hopeless sort of
way. There was the baby, that he saw now for the first time, crowing and
jumping at the sight of the boat coming in; there was the eldest boy,
looking awkward and out of place in his new slop-suit of black, shifting
round uneasily, and looking anywhere but at his father. But the little
girl was the worst, and a pretty little girl she was, too; she never
took her streaming eyes off her father's face the whole time. You could
see that her little heart was bursting, and with pity for him. They were
too far apart to speak to each other as yet. The boat seemed a cruel
long long time swinging alongside--I wished they'd hurry up. He'd
brought his traps up early, and laid 'em on the deck under the rail; he
stood very quiet with his hands behind him, looking at his children. He
had a strong, square, workman's face, but I could see his chin and mouth
quivering under the stubbly, iron-grey beard, and the lump working in
his throat; and one strong hand gripped the other very tight behind, but
his eyelids never quivered--only his eyes seemed to grow more and more
sad and lonesome. These are the sort of long, cruel moments when a man
sits or stands very tight and quiet and calm-looking, with his whole
past life going whirling through his brain, year after year, and over
and over again. Just as the digger seemed about to speak to them he met
the brimming eyes of his little girl turned up to his face. He looked
at her for a moment, and then turned suddenly and went below as if
pretending to go down for his things. I noticed that Mitchell--who
hadn't seemed to be noticing anything in particular--followed him down.
When they came on deck again we were right alongside.

"'Ello, Nell!" said the digger to the eldest daughter.

"'Ello, father!" she said, with a sort of gasp, but trying to smile.

"'Ello, Jack, how are you getting on?"

"All