'Well, mevvies he was ower strong ti be easy ti droon; mevvies the cold water cleared his mind a bit, an' he thought shame on hissel' ti leave wife an' bairns ti shift for theirsels; anyhoo, as he said efter, when he saw the red light of a little schooner ridin' waitin' for the tide off the harbour, a thought cam intiv his brain, "Wey not gan right awa an' make a fresh start iv a fresh place?" 'The thought grows on him, an' he swims oot ti the schooner just as she was standin' awa for London town, an' he hails her an' is taken on board i' the nick o' time. Another minute an' she would have been oot o' sight an' hearin', an' Jim would have been a corpse in another ten minutes, I's warn'd. 'Well, nowt is heard ov him for months an' months. "The Heckler" carves an "In memoriov'm" on that headstone; his missus gans inti "blacks," an' the other woman leaves the Prospect Hoos an' gans right awa from these parts. 'One day though, Jim's missus comes alang tiv us cryin' an' laughin' aal at yence, haudin' up a letter and kissin' it between whiles. "It's from Jim! Jim!" she cries, "an' Jim, sweet Jim, he kept hissel' alive for me an' Jackie an' Sal! Oh, he loves me yet, my Jim!" 'Well, it seems as hoo he had gan oot tiv Australia, an' efter a bit wanderin' had gettened hisself a very canny sitivation at a gold mine, an' he sends aff at yence for his missus an' bairns, an' a week later awa they starts. 'They finds Jim doin' first-class when they gets there, an' he went ahead like a hoos-o'-fire as soon as he gets his missus an' bairns back tiv hissel', an' the past wiv its clartiness was just clean wiped out between them. 'An' noo he's the Right Honourable the Lord Mayor o' Ballarat, or some such place, an' cannot mak' enough ov his missus and bairns, they say. 'There's some women mevvies,' added 'the Heckler' in conclusion, 'who wouldn't have pardoned their man, but she was one o' the sort that are just faithfu' ti death--nowt can tarr'fy them aff, an' it's fair providential that it should be so, for there's many men noo livin' who wud just have been iv hell lang syne else.' FOOTNOTE: [11] Manager. 'THE HECKLER' UPON WOMENFOLK 'Men are kittle cattle enough,' replied 'the Heckler' oracularly, from his position of vantage on the top of a gate, to some question of mine concerning an indignation meeting held recently to protest against some matter about which no two people could give a like account; 'but they're nowt ti what womenfolk is. Ye can get roond most men easy enough if ye've a bit tax.' 'Tax?' I queried aloud, somewhat mystified. 'What tax? not rates an' tax----'