"Well, lad, supposing you read what the editor has to say?" was McClintock's suggestion, when the frolic was over. The swelling in his limbs had also subsided. Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. “I don’t know how to prove myself to you, John. The drunken beachcombers; the one-sided education; the utter loneliness of a white child without playfellows, human or animal, without fairy stories, who for days was left alone while the father visited neighbouring islands, these pictures sank far below their actual importance. He would stare at her intensely when he was certain his parents were not looking in his direction.
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