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OR, LIFE ON THE GOLDFIELDS.
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perusing my diaries I seem to live over again the life therein depicted. Past times are brought before me in panoramic succession—times that have left ineffaceable traces, I trust, of good on myself, my compeers, and on this my adopted country. With the expression of this hope I lay down my pen, avowing that “at all times I have enjoy’d greatly, have suffer’d greatly, both with those that loved me and alone.”
THE END.