“So would I. Melbourne is a nice city, but I’d rather be on dad’s farm eatin’ supper in the old kitchen than in the best hotel here.”
“After all, there’s no place like home, Obed.”
“That’s a fact, but perhaps Jack doesn’t feel so.”
“My home isn’t what it was once,” said Jack soberly. “If mother hadn’t married again it would have been different, but I never can like or respect my stepfather.”
“There’s one place you ought to visit before you start for home, Harry,” suggested Obed.
“I mean to see the city pretty thoroughly before I go, as I don’t imagine I shall ever come this way again.”
“That’s all right, but it isn’t what I mean.”
“What then?”
“Do you remember the old gentleman you saved from a ruffian the night before you started for the mines?”
“Mr. Woolson, yes.”