There were two incidents that preceded this the thoughts of which were not very comforting to a lonely woman in mother's position. The wife of Harry Welles and his daughter who dwelt on the twelve acres to which I have referred both died of starvation. They were not buried in that locality as some of the people of that district think. They [sic] bodies were taken away for an inquest; at which the doctor certified that they both died of hunger and their bodies were buried at the Yarra. The two graves in our old paddock were not their graves; but they were the graves of two poor fellows who died of starvation on the road. Who they were was not known but the police asked permission to bury them there. One was a blackman and the other a white fellow and a nice little fence was erected around their graves. There was nothing planted on the graves but of its own accord a lightwood grew on the whiteman's grave and a red gum on the grave of the blackfellow. Later a bushfire swept away the little paling fence and killed the two little trees within the enclosure. Harry Welles remained in occupation for some time after his wife's death and during his lone moments there he said one day his wife returned and stood in front of him by the end of the table; he said: "I said to her 'Now what do you want here,' and she vanished." These are the sort of tales and memories mother had to reflect upon by day and day. There was no such thing as forgetting these matters: for there was the empty house Mrs. Welles and her daughter once dwelt in little more than a hundred yards off, and between our house and it stood the two graves of the wayfaring travellers. - Thoughts of what and when her own end would be often came to mother and she frequently wondered what would become of me. As she considered herself already old she said she never expected to see me reared. Still mother put her trust in God. I would like to add a little about Harry Welles. He was I think born about 1806. He was away for some time after his misfortune at Omeo. I remember his return. He was a man practically without a fault. He was very energetic and could turn his hand to anything. - He was a very neat workman, and ampe evidence of that remained in the comfortable dwelling he erected. It stood to the west side of the Creek. The front was weatherboards - evidently produced in a sawpit. The side and back were slabs neatly fitted into grooves in the substantial ground and ceiling plate, and a shingle roof. Nicley papered in the interior - A good paling fence surrounded the spacious garden. I remember a cherry tree that stood in the garden that must have been fourteen or fifteen years old - Thus he must have settled there about the year 1859, or perhaps something before that. The reason Welles settled where he did was he thought the situation good, and that the place he ahd selected would one day be a centre of interest, but somehow Welles got caught on the wheels of fate and by circumstances was driven downwards. In [sic] is not talent, industry or temperance that makes a man in life. He might have all these good qualities and acheive [sic] little for himself or anyone else. A little bad luck, and a man will lose the good result of a lifetime's effort, and a little good luck will give him the benefits of a life's toil without an effort. There were many prosperous people who criticised Welles adversely but misfortune overwhelmed them later on, and they finished up no better than he did. It was said in the district that Welles was sent from England here for the good of his country, but there was nothing in it. He landed in Sydney and before he came to Gippsland was in the Mitta Mitta. He mortgaged his little place which was only twelve acres to Morgan Davis, and he never got out of his clutches. Finally Davis closed on him, and mother purchased it from Davis. This concludes all I can say on the history of my early neighbour. Now it happened while father was away he sent mother a cheque from Queensland for £9-15/-. No one handy could change it. There were none at home at the time and I only was with mother: for at this time I was but ten months old. Taking a bush track and missing Heyfield on her right hand mother went to McCann's Hotel at Tinamba to see if they could oblige her with the cash for the cheque. This was a journey of nine miles each way and mother had to carry me in her arms. They kew her well at McCann's Hotel. Mother went into the bar to present the cheque and obtain the change. Now there was a bushranger in the bar named Scanlon and the barman giving mother a friendly hint said "Are you not afraid to go home tonight?" For her safety sake he was suggesting that she would stay at the hotel though not expressing it in words. He was giving her a hint that there was an unsafe man looking on. Mother said "Oh no I'll be alright." Nevertheless as she left the hotel the hint given her by the barman dwelt heavily on her mind. Mother did not walk the road though it was a well made one. She got into the paddocks so that she would meet no one but as she was walking the fields on the right hand side of the highway she would of necessity have to cross the road somewhere further along to make for Seaton.. Having done about two miles or a little more from McCann's Hotel - this is level country Mother drew nigh to where there is a rise. Near to this little hill stood a hut occupied by two bachelors. McLachlan was the owner and Colin McFee resided with him. They had two dogs one of which had a very nasty temper. As mother approached the little dwelling this dog came out and barked at her. But mother knew the dog a little for its owner had often been to our place when mother had at times fed the dog with a few scraps. Still for all that the dog was very dngerous a complete stranger dare not attempt to stroke him. But mother spoke to the dog , and it made friends with her. Mother felt anxious to quieten the dog for she feared it might arouse the men who would possibly be sleeping and the night be well advanced she did not wish to speak to them at such an advanced hour. I was not weaned and mother thought it about time to give me a drink. To do so she sat on a log that was handy. Meanwhile she kept talking to the dog in an undertone, and when she sat down the dog sat on the edge of her dress. The dog, however, was ill at ease and kept looking round as if something was disturbing him. Meanwhile mother tried to pacify the [dog]. She stroked him gently and kept speaking to it. But the dog was restless perhaps he heard something for he suddenly bounded up and would have made off but mother called him back for she feared his barking might bring out the men of the dwelling. Again the dog started up but mother persuaded himback. But just as she did so mother could see the shadow of a man moving along the ground for it was moonlight. This was Scanlon he had followed mother up and had missed the road but had now thought he had located her by hearing someone speaking with the dog [Here the writing ends, believe it or not!]