After a while, I saw Goggle Eye feeling among his thick curly hair for his pipe, and I guessed his headache was better. When he found it, he filled it ready for a smoke, and I remarked that Mrs. Goggle Eye must be a very good lubra. He smiled approval, and said, “My word!” and I thought that if Mrs. Goggle Eye had known everything, she would have given “three cheers for good old Epsom!”
As he sat puffing at his pipe, I wondered if these extra marks had anything to do with his being King, but knew if I asked questions he would go away. Instead, I showed him a picture of King Edward VII., and told him that he wore a crown to show that he was King.
He liked this very much, and said so, and then smoked on in silence. At last, pointing to his right arm, he said:
“Me King alright,”
“My word!” I said, “I think you big mob King.”
This pleased the vain old chap immensely.
“Me plenty savey corrobboree,” he chuckled, rubbing his hands up and down his back; “me savey all about corrobboree.”
“My word!” I said, to show my great admiration. “Tell me, Goggle Eye,” I added.
He hesitated for a while, and then told me that when a blackfellow has been through a corrobboree, his teachers put a mark on him, to show that he understands all about it—a certificate for the examination, I suppose! Of course a great number of marks mean a great deal of knowledge; so it was no wonder that Goggle Eye was proud of his. As he felt his certificates he chuckled,
“Big mob sit down longa me.”