He was my favourite, was Jo, and he repaid me
cruelly. When he married, I only heard of it from other people; we'd
been parted for a long time already. And just about then I had a
letter from Michael, asking me if I was willing to go out and live
with him in Australia. I hadn't heard from him more than two or
three times in twelve years, and when this letter came to me I was
living in Sheffield; I'd been there about five years. He wrote to
say he was doing well, and that he didn't like to think of me being
left to spend my old age alone. It was a kind letter, and it warmed
my heart. Lonely I was; as lonely and sorrowful a man as any in
England. I wrote back to say that I'd come to him gladly if he could
promise to put me in the way of earning my own living. He agreed to
that, and I left the old country, little thinking I should ever see
it again. I didn't see Joseph before I went. All I knew of him was,
that he lived in Clerkenwell Close, married; and that was all I had
to guide me when I tried to find him a few years after. I was bitter
against him, and went without trying to say good-bye.
'My son's fortune seems to have been made chiefly out of
horse-dealing and what they call "land-grabbing"--buying
sheep-runs over the heads of squatters, to be bought out again at a
high profit.
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