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The Caxtons — Volume 17 by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton
page 32 of 36 (88%)
for a shot at the kangaroos. But I dare not go on with the list of a
Bush husband's requisites. This change, however, serves, for various
reasons, to quicken my desire of return. Ten years have now elapsed,
and I have already obtained a much larger fortune than I had calculated
to make. Sorely to Guy's honest grief, I therefore wound up our affairs
and dissolved partnership; for he had decided to pass his life in the
colony,--and with his pretty wife, who has grown very fond of him, I
don't wonder at it. Guy takes my share of the station and stock off my
hands; and, all accounts squared between us, I bid farewell to the Bush.
Despite all the motives that drew my heart homeward, it was not without
participation in the sorrow of my old companions that I took leave of
those I might never see again on this side the grave. The meanest man
in my employ had grown a friend; and when those hard hands grasped mine,
and from many a breast that once had waged fierce war with the world
came the soft blessing to the Homeward-bound,--with a tender thought for
the Old England that had been but a harsh stepmother to them,--I felt a
choking sensation which I suspect is little known to the friendships of
Mayfair and St. James's. I was forced to get off with a few broken
words, when I had meant to part with a long speech,--perhaps the broken
words pleased the audience better. Spurring away, I gained a little
eminence and looked back. There were the poor faithful fellows gathered
in a ring, watching me, their hats off, their hands shading their eyes
from the sun. And Guy had thrown himself on the ground, and I heard his
loud sobs distinctly. His wife was leaning over his shoulder, trying to
soothe. Forgive him, fair helpmate; you will be all the world to him--
to-morrow! And the blue-eyed sister, where was she? Had she no tears
for the rough friend who laughed at the silk shoes, and taught her how
to hold the reins and never fear that the old pony would run away with
her? What matter? If the tears were shed, they were hidden tears. No
shame in them, fair Ellen! Since then thou hast wept happy tears over
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