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And now he was an old un, and they tried out the youngsters on him. There was that bloke, Sandel. He had come over from New Zealand with a record behind him. But nobody in Australia knew anything about him, so they put him up against old Tom King.

'There's one bloke there wot puts up twenty-five rolls o' paper in a day an' trims and pastes for 'imself; and as for the painters, nearly everyone of 'em gets over as much work as us three put together, and if you're working there you've got to do the same or get the sack.

Many old fellows, roaring "Gimme your votes, I'm the only bloke to save the country and see you git yer rights," dress this modest rôle in a long-tailed satin-faced frock-coat, a good thing in the trouser line, and a stylish button-hole; but Leslie Walker, one of the champagne set, had made equally palpable efforts to dress himself down to his present début.

"This this here tune " "Yes. This disgustin' noise what is it?" The mate looked sulky. "This is Haydn's 'Surprise," he growled. "So I should think. I dunno who the bloke was, but it must have given Haydn quite a turn! Don't let's 'ave no more of it." "Well, I don't see as there's no 'arm in music. And I didn't loose it off when you was about.

"Of course he 'ad a bloke along of him, and, says he, `That there parson's son, says he, `is a cuttin' it fat? says he. `He do owe me a fifteen pun, says 'e, `and ef 'e don't hand it over sharp, says he, `I'll wake 'im up! And then " "Yes," said Mr Barnacle; "that's enough, my man, thank you."

"But oo's 'im?" "He is my friend out there upon the veld." "Lor! but where'll you be? Didn't you say as I'd be talkin' to you? I don't 'arf fancy wot you calls the gyme, not if I 'ave to play it with a strynge bloke!" The answer came, accompanied by a scraping, familiar sound.

You remember the Oriental bloke that always asked, 'Who is she? when he heard of a fight, or a fire, or a mad bull broke loose, or any trifling calamity of that sort; because, according to his views, a female was at the bottom of everything bad that ever happened upon this earth.

"The old bloke advertised," he said, "for another driver, a steady, reliable man to drive a twenty horse-power, four-cylinder touring car. Every driver in Sydney put in for it. Nothing like a fast car to fetch 'em, you know. And Scotty got it. Him wot used to drive the Napier I was tellin' you about." "And what did the old man say when he found he'd been running a racing car?" "He don't know now.

"Oh! come and see me!" snarled the strange boy, in a contemptuous tone, cocking his fists up in a scientific manner, and dropping into a stoop- shouldered swagger that would have driven envy into the heart of a bullying hack-driver. "Git the bloke on his pins!" he sneered, turning to the crowd. "S'pose I'm goin' to hit a man w'en he's down?" But his antagonist needed no such assistance.

"'S-sh-sh! whispers the clerk, scart. ''Tis the boss. The bloke what runs the hotel. He's a fine man, but he has troubles. He's blue. "'So that's the boss, hey? says I. 'And he's blue. Well, he looks it. What's troublin' him? Ain't business good? "'Never better. It ain't that. He has things on his mind. You see "I cal'late he'd have told us the yarn, only Sim wouldn't wait to hear it.