At the end of this year I returned to Winton to prepare for the elections to be held in May, 1896. I addressed a meeting at that town, and received a vote of confidence. I commenced a tour of the district. The season was very dry, and I had to send feed for my horses by Cobb's coach to Boulia. I went over some of the same ground as in 1890, and when travelling between Boulia and Springvale I saw the tracks made by my buggy in the wet of that year. This shows the scarcity of travellers in that country. At the election I was in a minority by three votes in Winton, but the outside places returned me with a substantial majority. Labour gained a few more seats at this election, and the verbosity one had to listen to made an M.L.A.'s life, like a policeman's, not a happy one.

Towards the end of the session the Minister for Railways laid the plans and specifications of another section of the Hughenden to Winton railway on the table of the House. Messrs. Kidston and Curtis, MM.L.A., led the Central members in strong opposition to the proposal, but after a short debate it was carried. This section when completed brought the line from Watten to Manuka, or, as the station is now called, "Corfield."

The second sections of the railway from Hughenden to Winton were constructed by the late Mr. G. C. Willcocks, and in a record time. He had to carry ballast and water along the whole construction of 132 miles from the Flinders River at Hughenden. His system was to plough and scoop the bed for the permanent way. This being done, a temporary line was laid down alongside, upon which trucks were run to carry on the advance work, leaving permanent work to follow up. As a consequence he was two months ahead of his time, and the line being available to carry traffic on the unopened portion, the Government decided to give him a bonus to hand the line over. Compared with present-day railway construction, as regards expense in time and in money, the Winton line is a monument to Mr. Willcock's ability and energy as a contractor, and to the relative merits of contract and day labour.

In 1896, Sir Hugh Nelson had been appointed President of the Legislative Council, and appeared in his Windsor uniform at the opening of Parliament this year. Mr. W. H. Brown, the leader of the Labour Party, who was sitting next to me in the Council Chamber, in a whisper loud enough to be heard around, remarked:—"I am just thinking how many ounces to the dish Sir Hugh Nelson would pan out if he were boiled down." Sir Hugh gave dignity to his new position, which was the reward of years of distinguished loyal and successful service to Queensland.

The Hon. T. J. Byrnes was now appointed to succeed Sir Hugh Nelson as Premier, and shortly afterwards visited England. Mr. Byrnes' career and successes were well known in that country, and these, aided by a frank, charming manner, made his tour one of triumph. It was a blow to Queensland that he did not long survive his return to the State. Although Byrnes was not in Parliament when Macrossan was alive, yet those who remembered the latter could not help comparing the two men. I do not recollect having seen Macrossan smile even after a successful speech. On the other hand, beyond a passing frown scarcely perceptible, even in the bitterness of debate, I have not seen Byrnes otherwise than smiling, but when one sat close to either and saw their eyes flashing fire, one could realise the strength and sincerity of both.

It is possible that had Byrnes lived to take the field against Federation, as it was thought he would, Queensland might not have become one of the States, except under certain saving conditions. I was present at the funeral ceremony in St. Stephen's Cathedral, and saw many hardened politicians brushing tears off. It was felt that a great man and a good man had passed away.

Mr. W. H. Browne, more familiarly known as "Billy" Browne, was a lovable character. Firm in his belief that his principles were right and should be maintained, but without being bitter to those who might differ from him. His death was no doubt a temporary loss to the Labour Party, of which Queensland could easily spare others more bigoted, but less sincere.

Sir Samuel Griffith, after giving the best years of his life to Queensland, had now retired to the Supreme Court Bench, and his absence was a loss to Parliament.

Most members judged Griffith as being cold and distant, but personally, I have much to thank him for. I found him kind and sociable when approached, and at no time did he assume a patronising manner when doing a favour. Those who knew him intimately told me they found him to be the same. Looking at him from the opposite side, he seemed to be always on the alert to find his opponent tripping. I have known him, when he did so, to generously aid in putting them right, and apparently because he felt it to be his duty to do so. He was different to his great opponent McIlwraith, both in character and mental construction. McIlwraith was by nature impatient and irritable. Griffith, on the contrary, was very patient, and maintained a great control of his temper. This enabled him to frequently have his views adopted when they might not be, if too strongly forced. Had advantage been taken of opportunities, Griffith might have been a wealthy man. But to his honour, and to that of Queensland Parliaments, from the first even to the present, this State has been singularly free from what has been brought to light in other States.The artesian bore at Winton was now completed by the Intercolonial Deep Boring Company. The bore has a depth of 4,010 feet, and a flow of 720,000 gallons of water per day, the temperature being 182 degs. Fahrenheit. It had many vicissitudes during its eight years' sinking. Two other companies went into liquidation in carrying out the work.

In 1898, I induced the Government to grant a loan of £2,500 to reticulate the town with water from the bore. As far as I can remember this session was uneventful in a political sense.

The bad health of my partner, Mr. Campbell, made it necessary that I should return to active business. I informed my constituents that at the end of this session, which would be the last of that Parliament, I intended to retire from politics.

Following Mr. Campbell's death, Mr. T. J. O'Rourke became my partner, and is so still.

I feel it would be out of place to express my personal opinion of Mr. O'Rourke. It is enough to say that he who can stand up against the criticisms, and hold the goodwill of western men of all sorts and conditions, needs no expression of opinion or feeling from me.

Although the Bush Brotherhood was founded by the Church of England at a period later than that at which I decided should end these reminiscences, it may not be out of place to allude to the good work of the Brethren, and the success of their endeavours to promote the spiritual and oftentimes the material welfare of the west. The members lived a life of hardship and self-abnegation, which was appreciated by people of all and of no religious beliefs.

One of its most notable members was the Reverend Hulton-Sams—known as the Fighting Parson—and who was the winner of many friendly fights. He travelled the west visiting stations and shearing sheds with his Bible and prayer-book on one handle of his bike, and a set of boxing gloves on the other, and after preaching an impressive extempore sermon, concluding the service, would invariably say, "Now, boys, we will have a little recreation!" and invite his hearers to put on the gloves. He was not always the winner, however. His manly virtues, the sincerity of his life, and the beauty of his character, made him one of the best loved amongst western men. On his return to England, after the war broke out, he enlisted, and received a commission as a Lieutenant in the "Duke of Cornwall's Light Infantry." He went with his regiment to France, and was instantaneously killed by a shell when seeking water for his wounded comrades. He died, as he lived, a Christian hero, and nothing better can be said of any man.

The following account of his death, received by his sister, Lady Wiseman, was published in the London Evening News:—

The Adjutant of a battalion of the D.C.L.I., said:—"He died a glorious death—that of a British officer and gentleman, commanding a company in an important position, and sticking it where many others might have failed. We were hanging on to the edge of a wood, and the Germans were trying to shell us out of it. That night the Germans attacked us again—bombs and liquid fire. C. Company stuck to it, and through all the terrific shelling they never flinched, although they lost heavily.

"They were there at 10 a.m., and I crawled to and talked to your brother several times. He was magnificent and very cheerful. His last words to me were, 'Well, old boy, this is a bit thick, but we'll see it through, never fear.' His company sergeant-major told me that at about 10 a.m. your brother crawled away to see if he could get any water for the men, many of whom were wounded and very thirsty.

"He was hit by a piece of shell in the thigh and side, and killed instantly. He died doing a thing which makes us feel proud to have known him. He was a fine officer, a fine friend, and was worshipped by his men."

I was but one of a large number of members who, during 1888, entered the House for the first time. To one who had not had the inclination, even if one had the time, previous to this, for politics, everything in and around the House was novel and interesting, but it was difficult to understand why members should in the Chamber be so bitterly hostile to each other and yet as friendly outside. There were, of course, exceptions as regards the latter, but I soon learned that a good deal of what was being said and done was more or less theatrical. Sincerity was to a great extent at a discount, and later years of experience in politics confirmed my impressions that the whole was a game to induce the people to think that their friend was Codlin, and not Short. And the farce is continued to the present time, only more so, and with the same success.

It seems to me that the end of my Parliamentary life might be the end of my reminiscences. The opening of railway communication with Winton brought new conditions into our lives. The days of pioneering, bullock-driving, the trips by Cobb and Co., which were not always trips of comfort or of pleasure, were things of the past. In place of the crack of the whip and the rumble of the coach were heard the whistle and snorting of the engine. We were now within civilisation, so far as convenience might go, but whether we were morally and socially better or worse is a very open question. The great distances, the open plains, and the loneliness and monotony which is generally characteristic of the western country, even in these days of comparative closer settlement, have formed the western character. It is a character hard, shrewd, and impatient in good times, but strangely patient and resourceful in times of floods, drought, or difficulty. Invariably maintaining a certain reserve, yet hospitable and generous towards strangers, and ready to give help without question where needed, the western-born man and woman carries a dignity and presence easily recognised, and a friend who visited the west after many years, remarks:—"I say, you have a grand stamp of man and woman growing up in the west, but you are not giving them encouragement to live in and develop their country as you should do."

The man of the west deserves much praise, but what might be said of its women. I have seen these following the waggon, or living in domiciles which, even at best, would be a shame to cities. Yet very rarely otherwise than patient, cheerful and hospitable, loving help-mates and mothers. "God bless them," I say.

I cannot help thinking that politics are the bane of the west. It is singularly free from religious rancour or animosity. The religious belief of the other man, or if he has any at all, concerns no one. So long as a clergyman does not hold that playing cricket or football on Sunday is wrong, even if he is not popular, he is at all times respected.

I remember a Roman Catholic priest (Father Fagan) speaking at a dinner of welcome, remark:—"A brother minister had asked him what good these social gatherings did?" He replied:—"They did a great deal of good, and he went so far as to say that one such gathering was worth twenty sermons. They were simply putting in practice the virtues preached from the pulpit of hospitality, charity and gratitude."

It is my sincere hope that such kindliness and charity might continue to the end of time.

"FAREWELL."

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