There were white men with families, a fine mission-house, and a club-house for cards and billiards. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. Feel for the lock, and prize it open,—you don't need to be told how. ‘I must get a handkerchief. In that sense, my strategy worked. The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred. "It is your son.
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