I remember a dreadful story of a digger who went and shot himself one night
after hearing that bad girl sing. We thought then what a frightfully bad
woman she must be. The incident terrified us; and thereafter
we kept carefully and fearfully out of reach of her voice,
lest we should go and do what the digger did.

. . . . .

I have a dreamy recollection of a circus on Gulgong in the roaring days,
more than twenty years ago, and a woman (to my child-fancy
a being from another world) standing in the middle of the ring, singing:

Out in the cold world -- out in the street --
Asking a penny from each one I meet;
Cheerless I wander about all the day,
Wearing my young life in sorrow away!

That last line haunted me for many years. I remember being frightened
by women sobbing (and one or two great grown-up diggers also)
that night in that circus.

"Father, Dear Father, Come Home with Me Now", was a sacred song then,
not a peg for vulgar parodies and more vulgar "business"
for fourth-rate clowns and corner-men. Then there was "The Prairie Flower".
"Out on the Prairie, in an Early Day" -- I can hear the digger's wife yet:
she was the prettiest girl on the field. They married on the sly
and crept into camp after dark; but the diggers got wind of it and rolled up
with gold-dishes, shovels, &c., &c., and gave them a real good tinkettling
in the old-fashioned style, and a nugget or two to start housekeeping on.
She had a very sweet voice.