Old Fosbery--otherwise Break-the-News--was a character round there.
If he was handy and no woman to be had, he was always sent to break
the news to the wife of a digger or bushman who had met with an
accident. He was old, and world-wise, and had great tact--also great
experience in such matters. Bad news had been broken to him so many
times that he had become hardened to it, and he had broken bad news so
often that he had come to take a decided sort of pleasure in it--just
as some bushman are great at funerals and will often travel miles to
advise, and organize, and comfort, and potter round a burying and are
welcomed. They had broken the news to old Fosbery when his boy went
wrong and was "taken" ("when they took Jim"). They had broken the
news to old Fosbery when his daughter, Rose, went wrong, and bolted
with Flash Jack Redmond. They had broken the news to the old man when
young Ted was thrown from his horse and killed. They had broken the
news to the old man when the unexpected child of his old age and hopes
was accidentally burnt to death. So the old man knew how it felt.


The farm was the home of one of Jack Denver's married sisters, and, as
there was no woman to go so far in the night they had sent old Fosbery
to tell her. Folks were most uneasy and anxious, by the way, when
they saw old Fosbery coming unexpectedly, and sometimes some of them
got a bad start--but it helped break the news.

"Well, if he ain't there, I suppose I'll have to do it," thought Ben
as he passed quietly through the upper sliprails and neared the house.
"The old man might have knocked up or got drunk after all. Anyway,
no one might come in the morning till it's too late--it always happens
that way--and--besides, the women'll want time to look up their black