happened to meet each other in Ballaarat. Joy at the meeting, led them
to indulge in a wee drop for 'Auld lang Syne.' In this state of happy feeling,
they call at the Eureka Hotel, on their way home, intending to have
a finishing glass. They knock at the door, and are refused admittance,
very properly, on account of their drunkenness. They leave, and proceed
on their way, not, perhaps without the usual colonial salutations.
At about fifty yards from the hotel, they hear a noise behind them,
and retrace their steps. They are met by persons, unknown, who inflict blows
on them, which render one insensible and the other lifeless.

A coroner's inquest was held on the body, the verdict of which was,
"that deceased had died from injuries inflicted by persons unknown;"
but public feeling seemed to point to Mr. Bentley, the proprietor of the
Eureka Hotel; who, together with his wife and another party,
were charged with the murder, tried at the police court, and acquitted.

The friends of deceased, considering that both the inquest and the trial
were unfairly conducted, agreed to meet on Tuesday, October 17th, on the spot
where the man was murdered, and devise measures to discover the guilty parties,
and to bring them to justice.

Accordingly, at an early hour, the hill on which is situated the Eureka Hotel
was thronged by thousands; so great was the excitement.

THOMAS KENNEDY, was naturally enough the lion of the day. A thick head, bold,
but bald, the consequence perhaps not of his dissipation; but of his worry
in by gone days. His merit consists in the possession of the chartist slang;
hence his cleverness in spinning, a yarn never to the purpose, but blathered
with long phrases and bubbling with cant. He took up the cause of the diggers,
not so much for the evaporation of his gaseous heroism, as eternally to hammer