The second of the young men I have spoken about, was known to us simply as, "Sailor Bill." He seldom had anything to say to anyone. We only knew, that he had been a sailor; and that he was to all appearance everything an honest fellow should be. He had worked with Olliphant for more than a year; and, although the two appeared to be on intimate terms of acquaintance--and actually were warm friends--neither knew anything of the private history of the other! As soon as we should have completed our claim on the Gravel-pits lead, Olliphant and Bill had declared their intention of proceeding to Melbourne--to return to the diggings no more. They had been both fortunate, they said--having obtained the full amount for which they had been toiling, and something more. They were going to realise those hopes and wishes, that had cheered and inspired them through the weary hours of their gold digging life. They were both quite young. Perhaps they had parents in poverty, whom they were intending to relieve? Perhaps others might be waiting for their return, and would be made happy by it? The joy of anticipating such a happiness was once mine; and I could imagine the agreeable emotions that must have occupied the thoughts of my two companions--once my own--to be mine no more. They were going to give up gold digging--with spirits light, and hopes bright, perhaps to enter upon some new and pleasanter sphere of action, while I could bethink me of nothing that would ever more restore my lost happiness. For me there was nothing but to continue the monotonous existence my comrades were so soon to forsake. Volume Three, Chapter XV. A DINNER-PARTY OF DIGGERS. Our claim was at length completed, and we--the shareholders--with some of our friends determined to hold a little jollification. We engaged a private room in the hotel, where we had divided our gold; and, after settling all accounts, we sat down to as good a dinner, as the landlord could place upon his table. After dinner, our pipes were lit; and the only business before us, was to find some amusement for the rest of the evening. "Rule Britannia," "The Red, White, and Blue," and "The Flag that braved a Thousand Years," were sung, and duly applauded. The poet of the company then gave us a song of his own composing, which, whatever may have been its merits, met with the approval of the company. As it was understood that "the Elephant" and "Bill" were going to give up gold digging for good, and were to start for Melbourne the next day, one of the party came out with a proposal, warmly seconded by the rest. "Elephant," said the person thus proposing, "now that you and Bill have made your fortunes, and are going to give up the business, suppose you tell us all what you intend doing with your money--so that, when we have made our fortune, we shall have your example to guide us in spending it?"