at Adelaide with a satisfied air when I am stopped in the street by
bowing acquaintances who never shook me by the hand before. They shake
me by the hand now, and cry, "I wish you joy, sir. That brave fellow,
your namesake, is of course your near relation."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you not seen the papers? Here they are."

"Gallant Conduct of Ensign De Caxton! Promoted to a Lieutenancy
on the Field!"

I wipe my eyes, and cry: "Thank Heaven,--it is my cousin!" Then new
hand-shakings, new groups gather round. I feel taller by the head than
I was before! We grumbling English, always quarrelling with each
other,--the world not wide enough to hold us; and yet, when in the far
land some bold deed is done by a countryman, how we feel that we are
brothers; how our hearts warm to each other! What a letter I wrote
home, and how joyously I went back to the Bush! The Will-o'-the-Wisp
has attained to a cattle station of his own. I go fifty miles out of my
way to tell him the news and give him the newspaper; for he knows now
that his old master, Vivian, is a Cumberland man,--a Caxton. Poor Will-
o'-the-Wisp! The tea that night tasted uncommonly like whiskey-punch!
Father Mathew, forgive us; but if you had been a Cumberland man, and
heard the Will-o'-the-Wisp roaring out, "Blue Bonnets over the Borders,"
I think your tea, too, would not have come out of the--caddy!