"How did the evidence go, mate?" asked the young fellow greedily.
"Eh?"
"How did the evidence go?"
"Oh yes! Well, I'm a bit hard o' hearin'—I dunno if you notice it on me, but I am—an' sometimes I'm worse nor other times; so I did n't ketch most o' what went on; an' the prosecutor he was a good bit off o' me; an' there was a sort o' echo. But I foun' one o' the magistrates sayin', 'Quite so, Mr. Waterman—quite so, Mr. Waterman,' every now an' agen; an' I was on'y too glad to git off with three months. I'd 'a' got twelve, if I'd bin remanded for a proper trial. The jailer told me after—he told me this Waterman come out real manly. Seems, he got the charge altered to Careless Use o' Fire. So I can't help giving him credit, in a manner o' speakin'. But, so help me God, I never burned no stack."
"Did you know this Waterman?" interrogated Dave. "Was you ever on his place?"
"Well, yes; I was on his place, askin' him for work, as it might be this mornin'; an' he give me rats for campin' so near his place, as it might be las' night. Seems, it was nex' mornin' his stack was burnt, jist after sunrise. But, so help me God, I never done it."
"(Adj.) shaky sort o' yarn," commented the bullock driver, in grave pity.
"Let it drop, Dave."
"Divil a shaky," interposed the hon. member for Tipperary. "Arrah, fwy wud the chap call on the Daity? Fishper—did ye iver foine justice in a coort? Be me sowl, Oi'd take the man's wurrd agin all the coorts in Austhrillia. An' more betoken—divil blasht the blame Oi'd blame him fur sthrekin a match, whin dhruv to that same."
"Shoosteece iss (adj.) goot, mais revahnsh iss (adj.) bat," remarked another foreigner—a contractor's cook, who had come to the homestead for a supply of rations. "Vhere iss de (adj.) von?—vhere is de (adj.) autre? All mix—eh? De cohnseerashohn iss—I not know vat you vill call him ohn Angleesh, mais ve vill call him ohn Frahnsh, (adj.) cohnplecat."
"Much the same in English, Theophile," I observed.