"Wot sort of a bloke's that 'ere cove?" asked Jimmy Flynn of Tom Hawkins. "He's a regular greeny, ain't he?"
"Oh, a good enough sort!" replied Tom. "He's new, but he's a learner. He picks up pretty fast, considering. You should 'a' seen him when he came here first; my word, he was a greenhorn then!"
"Here's the Captain, father!" sang out Sandy, as three men cantered up the track.
"Guid-day, White! Guid-day, men! Glad to see you. Off saddle and join us in a tot o' tea and a bite."
"Good-day, M'Intyre! By George! you've got quite a troop, man. Day, Dickson! Day, Davidson! What on earth do you townies think you're going to do? Stand a good chance, Dickson, of cracking your skull and spilling all that legal soph—I mean lore, that's bottled up there. Oh, I say, Mac, old Dumaresque's coming along," rattled on the Captain.
"I'll believe it when I see him, no' afore. The auld boy's better at hame when this wark's on."
"Well, all I know is that he sent me word last night by one of the men, and cautioned me to be sure and tell you."
"If he comes he comes, and if he disna he'll no' be much missed. Noo, boys, bring in the tea!"
"By Jove! M'Intyre, your wife's a sensible woman: this is the sort of grub to work on. Last month I was over at the Glenormiston mustering. De Little asked me to join him at midday after a heavy morning's work, and as I was as hungry as ten hunters I readily consented. What d'ye think he produced from his tucker-bag? Some lettuce sandwiches, no less; and cream puffs! De Little's as good as gold, you know, so I couldn't refuse to take some; but, I give you my word, I strolled over to his men as soon as I could get away decently, and got a slice of beef and a chunk of damper."
"Hoo's De Little getting on?"