Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: July 8, 2025
She would argue about it till the day she died, and then she said with her dying breath: 'It wasn't Brummy Usen. No more it was he was a different kind of man; he hadn't spunk enough to be a bushranger, and it was a better man that was buried for him; it was a different kind of woman, holding up a different kind of branch, that was tattooed on Brummy's arm.
He up-ended Brummy, and placing his shoulder against the middle of the lower sheet of bark, lifted the corpse to a horizontal position; then, taking the bag of bones in his hand, he started for home. "I ain't a-spendin' sech a dull Christmas arter all," he reflected, as he plodded on; but he had not walked above a hundred yards when he saw a black goanna sidling into the grass.
Brummy the Nut was perhaps five feet nine inches in height, but walked in the stooping attitude of a person under a burden, his long arms swinging in a manner that strengthened the hint of gorilla in his broad, battered face; he dragged his feet as if the ball and chain were still at his heels, and, despite the enormous strength suggested by his massive limbs and great trunk, bore himself with a childish meekness in ludicrous contrast with his sinister appearance.
They camped down the creek, and next morning Brummy started to shave himself. "Whatever are you a-doin' of, Brummy?" gasped Swampy in great astonishment. "Wait and see," growled Brummy, with awful impressiveness, as if he were going to cut Swampy's throat after he'd finished shaving.
'Don't be selfish, Jim. I've got nothing to do this afternoon, an' would just as soon watch a good scrap. Why not oblige the kind gentleman? 'You and the kind gentleman can go hang! 'They've got Brummy the Nut there, the Prodigal said. 'Brummy is a lag who had all the sensibilities battered out of him in the quarries.
'Gent don't wanter fight, whispered Brummy; 'tha's all right no 'arm did. Brummy was the only man of his party who betrayed no feeling whatever in the matter. There was a further conference, and the spokesman turned to Jim again. Brummy claims the championship of Diamond Gully, he said. 'That's no business of mine. He's welcome to claim anything he takes a fancy to for me, replied Jim.
Nearly every bushman has at least one superstition, or notion, that lasts his time as nearly every bushman has at least one dictionary word which lasts him all his life. Brummy had a gloomy notion Lord knows how he got it! that he should 'a' gone on the boards if his people hadn't been so ignorant.
He has no science, but hits like the kick of a cart-horse, and is humbly grateful for punishment that would knock the hide off an old man hippopotamus. 'Look here, you won't disappoint poor Brummy the Nut, pleaded Mike, with mock gravity. The deputation of two returned after another conference.
He rested Brummy on the ground while he had another pull at the bottle, and, before going on, packed the bag of bones on his shoulder under the body, and he soon stopped again. "The thunderin' jumpt-up bones is all skew-whift," he said. "'Ole on, Brummy, an' I'll fix 'em" and he leaned the dead man against a tree while he settled the bones on his shoulder, and took another pull at the bottle.
'Call it a parlour game if you like, Mr. Solo, but I'm the winner, and I'll trouble you to come with me. 'Wait a moment. Macdougal, this farce has gone far enough. As your guest, I demand an explanation. Macdougal looked at Ryder in silence for a moment, and then said quietly: 'They're callin' the new man yonder at the five-mile Brummy the Nut; maybe ye mind him. 'I do not.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking