Information about Trove user: JanSki

View user profile in the Trove forum

Tags

Display options

top tags

Recent comments

Display options

Text corrections

Hall o' fame ranking

Rank Corrector Lines corrected
1 JohnWarren 6,013,668
2 noelwoodhouse 4,002,936
3 NeilHamilton 3,492,830
4 DonnaTelfer 3,466,935
5 Rhonda.M 3,432,129
...
297 kaepaviour 184,708
298 laawilson 183,039
299 cireen 182,799
300 JanSki 182,654
301 gkang 182,608
302 sparksrflyin 181,073

182,654 line(s) corrected.

Corrections by month

April 2020 1,814
March 2020 13,903
February 2020 14,318
January 2020 11,538
December 2019 8,323
November 2019 5,922
October 2019 2,272
July 2019 150
June 2019 2,480
May 2019 3,770
April 2019 11,397
March 2019 4,008
February 2019 6,177
January 2019 18,763
December 2018 13,852
November 2018 8,951
October 2018 6,624
September 2018 6,628
August 2018 780
July 2018 4,632
June 2018 8,159
May 2018 11,829
April 2018 9,109
March 2018 7,255

Hall o' fame ranking

Rank Corrector Lines corrected
1 JohnWarren 6,013,466
2 noelwoodhouse 4,002,936
3 NeilHamilton 3,492,701
4 DonnaTelfer 3,466,909
5 Rhonda.M 3,432,116
...
296 kaepaviour 184,708
297 laawilson 183,026
298 cireen 182,667
299 JanSki 182,654
300 gkang 182,606
301 sparksrflyin 181,073

182,654 line(s) corrected.

Corrections by month

April 2020 1,814
March 2020 13,903
February 2020 14,318
January 2020 11,538
December 2019 8,323
November 2019 5,922
October 2019 2,272
July 2019 150
June 2019 2,480
May 2019 3,770
April 2019 11,397
March 2019 4,008
February 2019 6,177
January 2019 18,763
December 2018 13,852
November 2018 8,951
October 2018 6,624
September 2018 6,628
August 2018 780
July 2018 4,632
June 2018 8,159
May 2018 11,829
April 2018 9,109
March 2018 7,255

No text corrections for 'Government Gazettes'


Recent corrections

Article Changed Old lines New lines
The Hermit of Myalong. A ROMANCE OF THE AUSTRALIAN ALPS.[COPYRIGHT.] PART II. CHAPTER XXVIII. (Continued). (Article), Reporter (Box Hill, Vic. : 1889 - 1925), Friday 13 May 1904 [Issue No.38] page 9 2020-04-03 19:51 narow limits of the valley. This
SCrlt ly Slit l s ii f ill 1 h in ai lt
narrow limits of the valley. This
The Hermit of Myalong. A ROMANCE OF THE AUSTRALIAN ALPS.[COPYRIGHT.] PART II. CHAPTER XXVIII. (Continued). (Article), Reporter (Box Hill, Vic. : 1889 - 1925), Friday 13 May 1904 [Issue No.38] page 9 2020-04-03 19:50 neighbothrxIl, and that iht (mild
The Hermit of Myalong. A ROMANCE OF THE AUSTRALIAN ALPS.[COPYRIGHT.] PART II. CHAPTER XXVIII. (Continued). (Article), Reporter (Box Hill, Vic. : 1889 - 1925), Friday 13 May 1904 [Issue No.38] page 9 2020-04-03 19:50 scrutinising the chanracter and
manner of the anged recluse. In
summing up his ilnprcssions he
was surprised to tind so little that
savoured of the hermit in his men*
currcnt language of thie day, his
thoughts ere (I l \lt551,l with an
case and piclisionl that denoted a
mind alert to all the swiftly mm ini
changes it the times. 1vnt ii Iacny:.
fiistidious t niae iin vain ll all.el dli
archaic l 1piesai, a pirovincial
vulgarity inlct I til' old manl \\.l
tar ahead ut iianiy whloml the
youItIlnIr man iumnld iwnai m10ailwig
his conteimpi)il lcs, ('cttaiv liy e
showed an utter inditfirenee to ill
amnbit ion, and though iin a Imeaso ic
his persistent isolation e hae l not
turnred an alien eve or car to all
that was going oon around him.
Miles away from a remote and oh.
scuire hamlnet lie had maintained,
by sonme extraordinary ins.inct, a
clear knowledge of the atairs of
life, le was in the world. yct not
oFit.
Ills littler 1tczv :nusd Jt on(,
over the -suddenllI aid IunIIIxp)cteC(
ldevelopmentt in his life history.
This aged andl eccentlic Inan claim..
ing him and hlovering iaround hti
and speaking of events so fir off-in
tine, yet of such imomenti in Ii hIs life,
linding a parent. Such a being lhe
could not image forth from tIhe
scanty- materials that had conme
with Ihimself to his foster parents.
Uinimaginative as these latter were
other than b)is cause that the
yountg mann himself suspected
th absence of legitimate birth.
CHAPTER XXIX,
Meanwhile Mlinor heard the
current-talk as one hears living
Iumiors from far country. FIor
some time piast slhe had dlwelt to a
she ,satened agerly to the various
speculations she tid not divulge
at. 6wn thoughts, Aftr the lh ine
natural xeclamatiool niuturcmlent,
she was probably less surlprised
than the otlhers, because lher clear
intuition had foreseen such a pows
recognised the books as once be
longing to himself. She had loy.
ally kept her pIromiise to Ilsey, else
-she would have felt hersell justiied
tb her aged friend.
A fortnight had clapsed since the
front the principals of the romance
had reached the 10lknds. The
confusing rumors werc often vague
enough -- indefinite hItearsays -
Olle hot, still; cloudy day, Eli.
and cousin to accept Karlsen's in
vit;ation to see hlls orchard, sat
some library accounts. 'The dull
until she felt tcmptal toleavethemn
Hfilary as they returned.
The day itself was such as in
vited indolence. Thcre were
thundery clouds closing over tile
long it would be before they be.
come actively electric. She re
malined llundecidted, wandered from
room to ooln. with1 somlne Ivajue
expC'tationll of etIllngli olr Selllg
solmeonlle. The ilrllcssioll was
overwihelming, and conne'cted
itself in- Etinot's mind with the
loss o ollittle lctty, whlo usedl to he
contliinuatlly in evidence iln cole
pjltt f ithe houIi
,Then again, shii it re I. i , l i
u tiind rexcit i ti- h th li I ni l tliul Ii' ciii'
that telaiy whI otict lnet in ft
·c;l Tieu\ hilt ·: g cti l: iii, 1 lint hi
scrutinising the character and
manner of the aged recluse. In
summing up his impressions he
was surprised to find so little that
savoured of the hermit in his men-
current language of the day, his
thoughts were expressed with an
ease and precision that denoted a
mind alert to all the swiftly moving
changes of the times. Even Ilsey's
fastidious taste in vain recalled an
archaic expression, a provincial
vulgarity indeed the old man was
far ahead of many whom the
younger man could name among
his contemporaries. Certainly he
showed an utter indifference to all
ambition, and though in a measure
his persistent isolation he had not
turned an alien eye or ear to all
that was going on around him.
Miles away from a remote and ob-
scure hamlet he had maintained,
by some extraordinary ins.inct, a
clear knowledge of the affairs of
life. He was in the world, yet not
of it.
His father! Ilsey mused long
over the sudden and unexpected
development in his life history.
This aged and eccentic man claim-
ing him and hovering around him
and speaking of events so far off in
tie, yet of such moment in his life,
finding a parent. Such a being he
could not image forth from the
scanty materials that had come
with himself to his foster parents.
Unimaginative as these latter were
other than by a cause that the
young man himself suspected—
the absence of legitimate birth.
CHAPTER XXIX.
Meanwhile Elinor heard the
current talk as one hears flying
rumors from a far country. For
some time past she had dwelt to a
she hastened eagerly to the various
speculations she did not divulge
her own thoughts. After the first
natural exclamation of amazement,
she was probably less surprised
than the others, because her clear
intuition had foreseen such a pos-
recognised the books as once be-
longing to himself. She had loy-
ally kept her promise to Ilsey, else
she would have felt herself justified
to her aged friend.
A fortnight had elapsed since the
from the principals of the romance
had reached the Ellends. The
confusing rumors were often vague
enough — indefinite hearsays —
One hot, still, cloudy day, Eli-
and cousin to accept Karlsen's in-
vitation to see his orchard, sat
some library accounts. The dull
until she felt tempted to leave them
Hilary as they returned.
The day itself was such as in-
vited indolence. There were
thundery clouds closing over the
long it would be before they be-
come actively electric. She re-
mained undecided, wandered from
room to room, with some vague
expectation of meeting or seeing
someone. The impression was
overwhelming, and connected
itself in Elinor's mind with the
loss of little Betty, who used to be
continually in evidence in some
part of the house.
Then again, she was restless
and excited with the remembrance
that Ilsey was once more in the
neighborhood, and that she could
scarcely miss seeing him in the
narow limits of the valley. This
The Hermit of Myalong. A ROMANCE OF THE AUSTRALIAN ALPS.[COPYRIGHT.] PART II. CHAPTER XXVIII. (Continued). (Article), Reporter (Box Hill, Vic. : 1889 - 1925), Friday 13 May 1904 [Issue No.38] page 9 2020-04-03 19:04 A ROMANCE o ru AUST1IALIdA
Br JEAN U. ROIINSON, B.A,,
Box Huan~
(CoPYRaIGTr.]
PAIr II.
CAPL'TER XXVill. (Continued).
The Hermit of Myalong.
A ROMANCE OF THE AUSTRALIAN
BY JEAN C. ROBINSON, B.A.,
BOX HILL.
[COPYRIGHT.]
PART II.
CHAPTER XXVIll. (Continued).
The Hermit of Myalong. A ROMANCE OF THE AUSTRALIAN ALPS.[COPYRIGHT.] PART II. (Continued). CHAPTER XXVIII. (Article), Reporter (Box Hill, Vic. : 1889 - 1925), Friday 6 May 1904 [Issue No.37] page 3 2020-04-03 18:47 No repetition tired him. he seemed
iness that this successful issue of
No repetition tired him. He seemed
piness that this successful issue of
The Hermit of Myalong. A ROMANCE OF THE AUSTRALIAN ALPS.[COPYRIGHT.] PART II. (Continued). CHAPTER XXVIII. (Article), Reporter (Box Hill, Vic. : 1889 - 1925), Friday 6 May 1904 [Issue No.37] page 3 2020-04-03 18:41 ancy in his consciousness. I is
r lked life, his frail iphysical
wovvrs, his lonl, (duniibniss, his
-ptr'ily aside as of iio coiseC
* niice O.. cside the overwierlhingi
"k., .t ill olintnmedt 11111.
"' After a iimne l.ev founild the
1urden of tlhe grii recital too in.
lolerable. e j uliiped up and left
tll loom, seeking the large in
tlusivencss of nature outside in
0o rasn tihe whole matter in its
:ntirety. Under the conflict of
eelitigs aroused by the simplicity
Ind directness o of old Clyde's nar:
;ative, his brain whirled with
chaotic thoughts, I is early child.
its memories of hlis life, began to
rise before him confirming, estah.
lishing, and bearing out the testi.
lie had now to fill up the re
mainder of the history and lit in
all lives capable of profound feel.
iln .
lor an hour or more he held
own .soul. before he returned to
the house to fillil his share in the
weavingt of the chain of evidence.
his returni.
"!have you more to tell me ?" lie
tasked; "my own life after I reached
...these mountains is almost a blank
page, , but:you-eyousrstave thirty
In an tmilpulse of ,excitement
peering into his face as lie had al
led him to a chair and sat oppo.
/ "Listen," he said, "1 will tell you
all I know. I have few recol
ilections-only confused images of
my .infancy remain, out of which
I am unable to ain tomuch co
herency. All I know for actual
many tiaes that a party of men
-dying of starvation in a dense scrub
I take to be the same as you men
of Gippsland, and were Ilurrying
catime across me unconscious from
of thent wanted to leave tme to my
towards the camp. The Ilseys
-never heard anything of my
Sthere were no papers, no telegraph
unkno\\twn country beyond them.
S'l'hey kept a few tattered Iportraits
which I had still carrird- in miy
hands, and which alone suppllied a
.' ulime h and til I nothing mnre
than the' subject of the I lttailt.
These, god I?ile I ohr nlver
can he sufliciently grateful to them
-n cSlieaseld to I egartd ImeI as a
stranger; indeld, if they ever etad
I have no rlcolletlt l ?ii of it, for
tr'e tended and vlecat-'d mn as
their own child,"
"Jeaven Ihless: therm," interru dcl
tld Clyde, wht listened eagerl l. "If
I had only known Imy life oubllt
have been ve'ry different. Yiii
see we had just come Ito the colony
and were uitter st;ulangerls yolur
poor mother and 1."
"You think there is nii ra;?on.
Idble doubt of our Iwlationship ?"
'nlueried Ilsev musintgly, Iooking I,.
yond those deep set 'yeis, with
their imournoful meIltolll es, into
those far.off days when lie tit
learnt of waifh?od.
"J am as satislied as if I hadl hlad
you with all these years," Ie
plied Clyde with strong cons iction;
yo.- are the iimage of yiour ii?othter
ii ways lthat none but I could see
-subtle tones of vuice, certain
(lanices and general contour of
ace Nature never makes two
exactly alike, hut she makes tine
shades of resemtlatce between
tiother and son that the father can
Snot mistake."
. For a few minutes the two men
turned their faces away antd av\idied
gazing directly at each other--thu
Baliu fiijgure was in each mind, the
satllmu llliculty u speech Illade
PULin SiICtI, Lila stlliusuIsitiveiIness
ill IUicl l roilude to minlitioii whal
C.AClI knew tiw uther %was thiuking
ol, At luilgtl , S il :t druain llste
lullld woris.
"And my mother?" lie whis
"A I," replied the old man,
covering his eyes, "she was at
brave anid noble lassie. 1 have
never forgotten that 1-1 have
never lorgiven miyself for brinig.
illg her uut here to die. but 1
'tin t know-- COuildn't know tllat
uI both was fike n riiilh l, ,
but 1 w\va toughI- I lived on pray
in l' lur deitil. Al lny auI l ? mii ally
a lonely Ilight I brooded oveur
violently enliIng lily wretcheid ox.
steuncc, and tlhen soniU faint liope
of you being found made Ille
p'ause. 7Shc Ilcver klnew o1ur loss
-shli never rallied iino.r enouglhI to
collSCIOousness to illlllS ou, aind
I Was tiltikiul ul that.'
Ti oual I man was overpowered.
!Ic srlillUlk back is i t' wilrd ull 1
11hu lilours of uile days i'l whi ll 1
Iroun fctercd so deeply . intl Iis
s*oill. "
lsy iooked away frolm tie
n1q,1rlt l t tluclntl o . l| I mt, 1
aged and withered before his prinme.
Pit t' I It seenmed as' if that were
all tie could ofler at Ipresent to the
being whose relationslhip to hiim.
self was so close. Ills n.atural
restraint, sensibility, and nlascu
sympiathy at this juncture, lie felt
nmust be a growlhI of time, and
that it was q uite imlpossible to
of duty, or even of sympathy. Ilc
Ellinor Ellend would think of this
was she who had first set in move
ent thile present train of events
lie lost himself in reverie~
"The people about here," re
suimed Clyde after a long silenceo
"And so my name is Eidward
after all," said I lsey when le had
listened to more of his father's re
minisconces.
kddy. Iremember it so well, for
the people who took you in- called
'ou so from your own infantile
Iyabit of naming yourself."
recounted his life history---all the
aostcr parents, if possible, the words
Ilta?LI'Ce._tii t on ever ý occasolun.
1o repmtitlioni t lwuli i fllIe.Om ed
proof against fatigue andt weanri
ness through the unspeakable hap.
liness that this successful issue of
the histories revealed in these in
! hen ensued srlih a whirlwind of
enlarged, exaggerated, . altered,
interested; might be Ilardoed if
part in the momenttOus evenls.
T*he peculiarity of the old man's
his mysterious absences,. and thle
place gave him a unit ue character
'There never had been wantinlg cle
Apart from the reports of his ex.
therere were whispers of his almost
supernatural knowledge of all mat
ters pertailing to the bush, his
the simpleh ierbls growing wihi on
the hillsides, his enigmnatical re
tlies to curious qflecstioners :111t
i; Inlstant anger at anlity eLcrlt:hl
inent on his ,,wn privatt dumains.
Hlislt,, tepq Iet y uw+ |' ,1 ,'. "I'I"
with btitti e i ll, thu'i 't , l c,ui ltl
Il.ilh fit,' ;and a;b1, h lthi,' ol,lh ,t,
bult it \wa i hii t \ itic e thlt h tulntt,'l
c te:\ rv, M with it,; IIn l chl '
cadtwnces, that olc heald lVtLee
inpo,,sibie to f~lar ,e.
('r,, le conthnual.)
ency in his consciousness. His
.recked life, his frail physical
.owers, his long, dumbness, his
range isolation, were swept per-
.mptorily aside as of no conse-.
.uence beside the overwhelming
..................... still consumed him.
" After a time Ilsey found the
burden of the grim recital too in-
tolerable. He jumped up and left
the room, seeking the large in-
clusiveness of nature outside in
.o grasp the whole matter in its
.ntirety. Under the conflict of
.eelings aroused by the simplicity
.nd directness of old Clyde's nar-
rative, his brain whirled with
chaotic thoughts. His early child-
its memories of his life, began to
rise before him confirming, estab-
lishing, and bearing out the testi-
He had now to fill up the re-
mainder of the history and fit in
all lives capable of profound feel-
ing.
For an hour or more he held
own soul before he returned to
the house to fulfil his share in the
weaving of the chain of evidence.
his return.
"Have you more to tell me ?" he
asked; "my own life after I reached
these mountains is almost a blank
page, , but you—you have thirty
In an impulse of excitement
peering into his face as he had al-
led him to a chair and sat oppo-
"Listen," he said, "I will tell you
all I know. I have few recol-
lections—only confused images of
my infancy remain, out of which
I am unable to gain much co-
herency. All I know for actual
many times that a party of men
dying of starvation in a dense scrub
I take to be the same as you men-
of Gippsland, and were hurrying
came across me unconscious from
of them wanted to leave me to my
towards the camp. The Ilseys—
—never heard anything of my
there were no papers, no telegraph
unknown country beyond them.
They kept a few tattered portraits
which I had still carried in my
hands, and which alone supplied a
clue to my identity, but these had
no name told nothing more
than the subject of the portrait.
These good people—for I never
can be sufficiently grateful to them
—soon ceased to regard me as a
stranger; indeed, if they ever had
I have no recollection of it, for
they tended and educated me as
their own child."
"Heaven bless them," interrupted
old Clyde, who listened eagerly. "If
I had only known my life would
have been very different. You
see we had just come to the colony
and were utter strangers your
poor mother and I."
"You think there is no reason-
able doubt of our relationship ?"
queried Ilsey musingly, looking be-
yond those deep set eyes, with
their mournful memories, into
those far-off days when he first
learnt of waifhood.
"I am as satisfied as if I had had
you with all these years," re-
plied Clyde with strong conviction;
"you are the image of your mother
in ways that none but I could see
—subtle tones of voice, certain
glances and general contour of
face. Nature never makes two
exactly alike, but she makes fine
shades of resemblance between
mother and son that the father can-
not mistake."
For a few minutes the two men
turned their faces away and avoided
gazing directly at each other—the
same figure was in each mind, the
same difficulty o. speech made
both silent, the same sensitiveness
in each forbade to mention what
each knew ... other was thinkung
of. At length, as in a dream Ilsey
found words.
"And my mother?" he whis-
"Ah," replied the old man,
covering his eyes, "she was a
brave and noble lassie. I have
never forgotten that I—I have
never forgiven myself for bring-
ing her out here to die. But I
didn't know—I couldn't know that
of both was like a death blow—
but I was tough— I lived on pray-
ing for death. Many and many
a lonely night I brooded over
violently ending my wretched ex-
istence, and then some faint hope
of you being found made me
pause. She never knew our loss
—she never rallied near enough to
consciousness to miss you, and
I was thankful of that."
The old man was overpowered.
He shrank back as if to ward off
the horrors of the days when the
iron entered so deeply into his
soul.
Ilsey looked away from t.e
mournful s.ectacle of the man
aged and withered before his prime.
Pity! It seemed as if that were
all he could offer at present to the
being whose relationship to him-
self was so close. His natural
restraint, sensibility, and mascu-
sympathy at this juncture. He felt
must be a growth of time, and
that it was quite impossible to
of duty, or even of sympathy. He
Elinor Ellend would think of this
was she who had first set in move-
ment the present train of events
He lost himself in reverie.
"The people about here," re-
sumed Clyde after a long silence
"And so my name is Edward
after all," said Ilsey when he had
listened to more of his father's re-
miniscences.
Eddy. I remember it so well, for
the people who took you in called
you so from your own infantile
habit of naming yourself."
recounted his life history—all the
foster parents, if possible, the words
that were used on every occasion.
No repetition tired him. he seemed
proof against fatigue and weari-
ness through the unspeakable hap-
iness that this successful issue of
the histories revealed in these in-
Then ensued such a whirlwind of
enlarged, exaggerated, altered,
interested; might be pardoned if
part in the momentous events.
The peculiarity of the old man's
his mysterious absences, and the
place gave him a unique character
There never had been wanting ele-
Apart from the reports of his ex-
there were whispers of his almost
supernatural knowledge of all mat-
ters pertaining to the bush, his
the simple herbs growing wild on
the hillsides, his enigmatical re-
plies to curious questioners and
his instant anger at any encroach-
ment on his own private domains.
His deep set grey eyes, gloomy
with bitter thoughts, could
flash fire and abash the boldest,
but it was hi. voice that haunted
everyone with its melancholy
cadences, that once heard were
impossible to forget.
(To be continued.)
The Hermit of Myalong. A ROMANCE OF THE AUSTRALIAN ALPS.[COPYRIGHT.] PART II. (Continued). CHAPTER XXVIII. (Article), Reporter (Box Hill, Vic. : 1889 - 1925), Friday 6 May 1904 [Issue No.37] page 3 2020-04-03 17:42 Ili f(if of of Uluull0
A ROMANCE or TrI AUSTRALIAN
By JEAN 0. ROBINSON, .A.,,
Bnox IhLn,.
(COPYRIGHT.]
CI1APTER XXVIII.
anxiously lquestioning, engerl
sifting and dexterously piecing te
more suggested tlhan told incidents
lf his fatller's tragedy, the broken
story was painill in (the extrcie.
not dismissed aught from .Clyde's
ilenlory, nor allowed one
ilCen to 1be forgotlen. It
ýcilned to hold a terrible insist.
1'cy in hiis co insciollsnic.s. I is
The Hermit of Myalong.
A ROMANCE OF THE AUSTRALIAN
BY JEAN C. ROBINSON, B.A.,
BOX HILL.
[COPYRIGHT.]
CHAPTER XXVIII.
anxiously questioning, eagerly
sifting and dexterously piecing the
more suggested than told incidents
of his father's tragedy, the broken
story was painful in the extreme.
not dismissed aught from Clyde's
memory, nor allowed one
item to be forgotten. It
seemed to hold a terrible insist-
ancy in his consciousness. I is
The Hermit of Myalong. A ROMANCE OF THE AUSTRALIAN ALPS. [COPYRIGHT.] PART II. CHAPTER XXVII. (Continued). (Article), Reporter (Box Hill, Vic. : 1889 - 1925), Friday 29 April 1904 [Issue No.36] page 3 2020-04-03 16:53 —which, in addlition to the por-
traits of their friends, contained
for traces of the child's presece
classed 'colonial," as though they
ing them to such a death trap,ate
—which, in addition to the por-
traits of their friends, contained
for traces of the child's presence
classed "colonial," as though they
ing them to such a death trap, ate
The Hermit of Myalong. A ROMANCE OF THE AUSTRALIAN ALPS. [COPYRIGHT.] PART II. CHAPTER XXVII. (Continued). (Article), Reporter (Box Hill, Vic. : 1889 - 1925), Friday 29 April 1904 [Issue No.36] page 3 2020-04-03 16:46 A 11OMANOIG or TIIR AUSTRALIAN
1r JrAN 0. IIOlIlNSON, Il.A.,
Box Hliu.,
[CorniallT.J
SPARrT I1.
OHAPTEIR XXS'1 (Continued).
In order to anmuse his boy while
he was awaj, Cly(c gavc himn a
chrerishred album-n lweddg gift
-which, in addlition to the por
traits of their Iriends, contained
several views of Mrs Clyde's na
tive town, Montrosc, in Scotland,
Occupied with his nttentions it
was nearly noon bcfore the Iiiis
band rodle awa? for srlvice and I
he. live r an unia, whlile the
littl clearing that marked the
place onhis humble dwellin re
imained iin view, hle looked hack
wvith kee naPprchension for the
alone in the vast solitudes of thrat
Sdense forest.
\1'hen, anxlous and fearfl, he o
utmost diniculty in persuading
* him to come so Iar out of 1his way.
Professional men in that tine and
place wvere so scarce and hard.
worked that they cuild afford to
refuse any request. iHowever, hy
munch pleading, Clyde overcame
the pliysician's objections to the
long ride there and hack, and,
after i long delay, they set out
dawn. When, - towards mniulday
they reached the lint, they found
Thse wiret ched )usband and
lather searcely heeded the absence
of the hov in his distress for tlie
ditnger o0 his wife. The doctor,
with pir o5ssionaul aculiel, tuook iin
siigle room in i coin prehensive
glance. Ilis opinion of the ease
was unlavorable-hlow much so
lie did not then tell time husbhila.
"It is virulent fever," ihe said,
"and if she cannot tie removed
from this place and get proper at.
There is only the slightest chaince
in an' case, but none here, 1Icr
constitution should nieter have
been .sibjected to tIme strain she
has undergon."
1-fe gave her some stimulating
liquid \vhich revived her slightly,
and then witl a few directions as
to her removal, ihe rode off again,
promiiising before lie left that lie
would senrlld hep and report the
lost child at the tirst dwelling
place ihe passed. 'C
Clyde groaiinel within himsell
~Iticn ihe saw blie only riumaun nepr
depart l Ilut there was no time to
r.rets. Ile turned to
tracesc~c 19t (1 6
nments outside the hut. Some of
the liortraits that ha:d beeli in the
albumn were scattered about the
groutnd, and some were altogether
missing, IIc hoped to find the
little fellow in somne 'rook i:u the
clearing, and, as soon as ihe got
his cart, le ran hither and thither
on the edges of the bush callinig
loudly for the boy. lIe found him.
yet there was no sigii of the child,
no trace of the tiny lad's destruc
IHe could not go away without
wife sick tnto death, and the dan.
ger increasing with every liotir
that he liigered on his Itinelt.
H~e could riot, with all his agon.
Iroin his iife. She had sunk into
a comatose state shortly after ihe
oblivious of everythuing all the
time of his absence,
·dilemma - presented during the
Often did he pause and listen in
tently when the air seemed to con
Oftci did lie confuse the weary
noaning of his restless wife with
i hofrible fate Ihe could not con
sent, while toinuger with his wile's
life ebbing away was equally in
All lie could bethliiik himself of
doing was to advaiice slowly for
ward arid search as lie went along
for traces of the clild's 1uresece
on thliejfalintly-lvmade tracks. HiIetc
also ire inirht meet such lid ii as
lie doctor 1noinised to send. Winir
terribly divided f'clinrgs the rhes·
perate man sla rte I his jailed horse
on the wvay and then rnm lack fir
a final look artuinth. It was iii.
euailiiig. lie rcjoiiicd the thud.
ding horse antI, piecr rg from jilt
to side, called every few Iiiiitin'ut
into the tlhiek lglate cS(f Iaogl-ui
brrrushwol. I litur afier h
passer, hurt nr tline wus ip jnt
and no voice answcr,'t har- kon
the dusky shades of tie illmnIe
tralle forest.
Towards everrilg to) his lhoior
]iiS wife showel 2llympii if ii.
tive hlicriiiiii. Sh ic lked inlito
iereitly, i nust ist tin jiising,, mr
Once, iii a mioimint when ( lvde
was off his iiaril, 5l.sirlig fnIt
the0 Cart and ranl u1to the striib.
HeIcr iusn clus nca rrietl tier balvk h
mvtir forLe, an was coi ii itellei to
te'ur hner etiverilig iini to trips airi
bind her rhowni iin fli juiltinig iilil
vehiicle. So ciften hail Ire iii hall,
so sloa wvas Iris pirigtL'ss that
imorniiiig iawried before the dusty
travel-stairied man,,.with his dying
duliiiibiis coillpaion,oi, racL'aled the
out skirts of t he hamlet whore
help could he olitainod and his un-i
fortuinate wife Ile .eatetidLd 10.
Ill-starred were the siifferurs in
those early days. Very LillC e was
kInowliof the (lifferetit fevers aiid
their treatinint-miost of (hlen wmre
were an epidemtic peculiar to the
coloiics. The treat mont was
such tlha it was only by ttie great.
cst goodl fortune that the wcakunud
Iraine could rucover; anid cvun
uit Ii recover)' thie consti tntoiln
was oftun pornanenitly shattered.
It is d<iilitfni l f rs Clyde evcr
kiievol- w her lost clil in tie bihush,
She never fully regained coniscious
liess; her delicate tcfraie, her aching
nurses, hleu low vitality, tricl liby
aer many harnships, couhl not
ross oft thu full ilisease t hit
apiillylp s ed Iiher stIrelngthIi. I )iir·
ng he long ntght jouriiev the
ut terniess ot denth wisas ii lon her;
ter removal tci A house wlicre
niniiisturod to her ictually has*
cued t he i nevitabl eni I. The
nief duliniiuip swas followed by i
icruiful interval or unconscio us·
ass before the long pcriod of as
aiistion that piecceadl thue fiianl
ilence ol death.
lIut tihe dest royer only coninplutcd
uis wvork in two utays time, and
liiring this *iiituval Clyielortoi
iunself fromt her side to go hack,
xithi somnc genuroiisly offierd as.
;istanucefroni stalwart buslhumeuu, to
ucek his lost cliilih. 'Tlhey searched
;vslunialtrally thue wlile of (lie
region arnounld t clrilig, work.
ing outwadnl oil (lie oiiue hand t.((
wards the liicur, :uia oii thleotluer
losarlds the forest. 'hel river's
iank was covcrud lly a dense
li-true, ha rriiig thue cnutnuice of ainy
ivii1g yioing, lucuice their effortl s
uerc inaiily diructod to thu scrub
uround.
A gain and aga in they returiledh
. the appointel cent iail pilce
vithout hianig able to report a sign
af thei (irusience of aiyt hinug lisin0g.
athleu thian t he oat is a.,niiuals, in
lie neiglhborluood. 'tears after
hosu good-hearted bushunen told
low Ulyde sworkush with sulper
unman eunergy all thlirouigh lihe d a~s
hey we;cre. suarchiinig, how
;cunted to he ubiquitous iin that
iuaxe if dense sum h, anil how lie
iad luft thomII 1o retuiirii to his ha p.
oss wife, aiid had come hack to
>0 told that they could no longer
spoct to Ibid thle child living
oic chIanIcu t here . uiiighIt ihe i of
inding his uody II the dingoes.
liEven (hose 11119, rillgli.
ned by the strugles of first settle.
n111t, (i1( not linis i their sun tunce.
After thu death oh his wife
lyde tled hack again to thu place
chore his child had first soandurud
swav, as indicated by the scraps
fI ortraits tlia strewed tle
rountl, and hIere the distracted
Wilcte, all. inll ro laie partLially-E
as or he ost boF G.rief for
ikea cinker at his vitals. Ilis
munsitive consciencu accnsbd hliimi
f bcig the priiiiary caise ol
heir death; lie shiuined his fellows
est they could read tile guilt in
is-face; lie, brooding cottinuously
)n the one idea, canle purilonsly
icar to iiranc ble madness.
Fortutiately lorjiiin a t imnely in.
urvunt ion occurreul that saved his
reason, Gold was discovered ftr*
ther dowin the river, and wvitli the
liscovery citile crowds of miners,
who, tramping through (lie lonely
bush, filled t(ie solitutdes wii(
noisy lauglhter atdtl reckless deeds,
Lthe iuiihappjl maii, svlo was gradmi
ally ussodaitillg hmimmiself to tihe
beasts of t(ie tield.
His chanice emicoinlters with the
merry lawless hordes bred inClytle
iii invincible dislike to t(ie prescuice
f man. The im:jCstic silences anmd
shades of tihe piriilval wilderness
al bush land alonie afforded him
tle consolation ie songhlt. Roused
to thiiiuk aul act in order to avoid
Llhe horror of usssociatiig with ini,
Clyde turned his face nortliwards
mad journeyed long and far across
lie wild, .rough country of lhe
Nustralian Alps, until lie camne lo(n
hsrie, where lie long reillailied umi
istourhed in his self-appointed cx.
datioil.
('a t o ci co tinuul.)
The Hermit of Myalong.
A ROMANCE OF THE AUSTRALIAN
BY JEAN C. ROBlNSON, B.A.,
BOX HILL
[COPYRIGHT.]
PART II.
CHAPTER XXVII. (Continued).
In order to amuse his boy while
he was away, Clyde gave him a
cherished album—a wedding gift
—which, in addlition to the por-
traits of their friends, contained
several views of Mrs Clyde's na-
tive town, Montrose, in Scotland,
Occupied with his attentions it
was nearly noon before the hus-
band rode away for advice and
help. Ever and anon, while the
little clearing that marked the
place of his humble dwelling re-
mained in view, he looked back
with keen apprehension for the
alone in the vast solitudes of that
dense forest.
When, anxious and fearful, he
utmost difficulty in persuading
him to come so far out of his way.
Professional men in that time and
place were so scarce and hard-
worked that they could afford to
refuse any request. However, by
much pleading, Clyde overcame
the physician's objections to the
long ride there and back, and,
after a long delay, they set out
dawn. When, towards midday
they reached the hut, they found
The wretched husband and
father scarcely heeded the absence
of the boy in his distress for the
danger of his wife. The doctor,
with professional acumen, took in
single room in a comprehensive
glance. His opinion of the case
was unfavorable—how much so
he did not then tell time husband.
"It is virulent fever," he said,
"and if she cannot be removed
from this place and get proper at-
There is only the slightest chance
in any case, but none here. Her
constitution should never have
been subjected to the strain she
has undergone."
He gave her some stimulating
liquid which revived her slightly,
and then with a few directions as
to her removal, he rode off again,
promising before he left that he
would send help and report the
lost child at the first dwelling
place he passed.
Clyde groaned within himself
when he saw his only human help
depart. But there was no time to
to lose in vain regrets. He turned to
..........................................................
and for the.......................................
traces of hislittle child's move-
ments outside the hut. Some of
the portraits that had been in the
album were scattered about the
ground, and some were altogether
missing. He hoped to find the
little fellow in some nook in the
clearing, and, as soon as he got
his cart, he ran hither and thither
on the edges of the bush calling
loudly for the boy. He found him-
yet there was no sign of the child,
no trace of the tiny lad's destruc-
He could not go away without
wife sick unto death, and the dan-
ger increasing with every hour
that he lingered on his quest.
He could not, with all his agon-
from his wife. She had sunk into
a comatose state shortly after he
oblivious of everything all the
time of his absence.
dilemma presented during the
Often did he pause and listen in-
tently when the air seemed to con-
Often did he confuse the weary
moaning of his restless wife with
a horrible fate he could not con-
sent, while to linger with his wife's
life ebbing away was equally in-
tolerable.
All he could bethink himself of
doing was to advance slowly for-
ward and search as he went along
for traces of the child's presece
on the|faintly-made tracks. Here
also he might meet such help as
the doctor promised to send. With
terribly divided feelings the des-
perate man started his jaded horse
on the way and then ran back for
a final look around. It was un-
availing. He rejoined the plod-
ding horse and, peering from side
to side, called every few minutes
into the thick glades of tangled
brushwood. Hour after hour
passed, but no trace was apparent,
and no voice answered back from
the dusky shades of tie impene-
trable forest.
Towards evening to his horror
his wife showed symptom of ac-
tive delirium. She talked inco-
herently, insisted on rising, and
once, in a moment when Clyde
was off his guard, sprang from
the cart and ran into the scrub.
Her husband carried her back by
main force, and was compelled to
fear her covering into strips and
bind her down in the jolting old
vehicle. So often had he to halt,
so slow was his progress that
morning dawned before the dusty
travel-stained man, with his dying
delirious companion, reached the
outskirts of the hamlet where
help could be obtained and his un-
fortunate wife be attended to.
Ill-starred were the sufferers in
those early days. Very little was
known of the different fevers and
their treatment-most of them were
were an epidemic peculiar to the
colonies. The treatment was
such that it was only by the great-
est good fortune that the weakened
frame could recover; and even
with recovery the constitution
was often permanently shattered.
It is doubtful if Mrs Clyde ever
knew of her lost child in the bush.
She never fully regained conscious-
ness; her delicate frame, her aching
nerves, her low vitality, tried by
over many hardships, could not
throw off the fell disease that
rapidly sapped her strength. Dur-
ing the long night journey the
bitterness of death was upon her;
her removal to a house where
kindly though ignorant hands
ministered to her actually has-
tened the inevitable end. The
brief delirium was followed by a
merciful interval of unconscious-
ness before the long period of ex-
haustion that preceded the final
silence of death.
But the destroyer only completed
his work in two days time, and
during this interval Clyde tore
himself from her side to go back,
with some generously offered as-
sistance from stalwart bushmen, to
seek his lost child. They searched
systematically the whole of the
region around the clearing, work-
ing outwards on the one hand to-
wards the river, and on the other
towards the forest. The river's
bank was covered by a dense
ti-tree, barring the entrance of any
living being, hence their efforts
were mainly directed to the scrub
around.
Again and again they returned
to the appointed central place
without being able to report a sign
of the presence of anything living,
other than the native animals, in
the neighborhood. Years after
those good-hearted bushmen told
how Clyde worked with super-
human energy all through the days
they were searching, how he
seemed to he ubiquitous in that
maze of dense scrub, and how he
had left them to return to his hap-
less wife, and had come back to
be told that they could no longer
expect to find the child living—
some chance there might be of
finding his body if the dingoes........
..............Even these men, rough-
ened by the struggles of first settle-
ment, did not finish their sentence.
After the death of his wife
Clyde fled back again to the place
where his child had first wandered
away, as indicated by the scraps
of portraits that strewed the
ground, and here the distracted
..................................................
forest, calling, calling, like one de-
mented, as in truth, he partially
was for the lost boy. Grief for
............................................ bring-
ing them to such a death trap,ate
like a canker at his vitals. His
sensitive conscience accused him
of being the primary cause of
their death; he shunned his fellows
lest they could read the guilt in
his face; he, brooding continuously
on the one idea, came perilously
near to incurable madness.
Fortunately for him a timely in-
tervention occurred that saved his
reason. Gold was discovered fur-
ther down the river, and with the
discovery came crowds of miners,
who, tramping through the lonely
bush, filled the solitudes with
noisy laughter and reckless deeds,
the unhappy man, who was gradu-
ally assimilating himself to the
beasts of the field.
His chance encounters with the
merry lawless hordes bred in Clyde
in invincible dislike to the presence
of man. The majestic silences and
shades of the primeval wilderness
of bush land alone afforded him
the consolation he sought. Roused
to think and act in order to avoid
the horror of associating with man,
Clyde turned his face northwards
and journeyed long and far across
the wild, rough country of the
Australian Alps, until he came to an
eyrie, where he long remained un-
disturbed in his self-appointed ex-
piation.
(To be continued.)
The Hermit of Myalong. A ROMANCE OF THE AUSTRALIAN ALPS. [COPYRIGHT.] PART II. CHAPTER XXI.—(Continued.) (Article), Reporter (Box Hill, Vic. : 1889 - 1925), Friday 26 February 1904 [Issue No.28] page 3 2020-04-02 23:41 " Lernoyd's outside—save him from
your position on me. Understand,
to that one again. It is such a
it apart from me. I can be nothing
nition. A faint new sound was
all else. Faugh ! What is a wo-
clearer. A shade of alarm crossed
locks. Come," he exclaimed, pull-
moment. There was no mistak-
mals. Towards her right lay the
cover the hillside. Meanwhile Le-
near them. Elinor shuddered and
dering over the lower ground. He
in Elinor's face. Old Hush thought
she was going to faint. He hastily
" Leroyd's outside—save him from
the old man in great surprise, "I
Elinor indicated. While he was
of the water from her skirts. Her
her, but she still panted for want
audibly within her breast. Hap-
not cling around her figure. She
followed by old Hush. Elinor
thing in one of the drives. She
unwelcome wooing. He returned
welcome to my heart. I wish you
face. "You are not unmindful of
to meet his. "Do you think it a
way when I am in your care ? I
am I. Surely I can say what is
to me. We are old enough now,
we can surely come to terms. Is
sound of that name. She leant
tion from her. You are delightfully
another man. You don't under-
I attain my end. And I never felt
as I do now, Elinor. Do not fight
She walked to the entrance. It
was still raining, but the storm
vived her. She glanced backward
the rain stops. I won't say more :
Myalong. Suddenly her pale face
the same direction. Advancing
his face. In the dim light of the
place startled him. His aged but
minutes. I'm so glad you've

Recent merge/splits

WhenSummaryCommentDetails

Read the merging and splitting guidelines.

Your lists

No lists created yet

Information on Trove's new list feature can be found here.