"Ye turnip-faced spalpeen, oi'll cut yer dirty thrapple wid my gully knife."
"Rot!"
"You beastly fellow!" said Claud, giving him a scornful look.
But this Socialist gentleman was not to be denied. He would speak. "Listen, boys," he roared above the din.
"All right, father—we'll listen," said Bill, giving the others a nod. Peace reigned, then Neverwork commenced.
"Boys, you've been fooled. Why should you fight for Hengland——"
"Britain, please—I'm a Scot," interjected Sandy.
"Well, what has Britain done for Australia? We don't want Hengland to hinterfere with our business and get hour boys killed. We've enough work 'ere to do. This is the working man's paradise. And we can make it a sight bigger paradise. We want more men like me."
"'Ave a banana," chirped Bill.
"Yes, mates; we want Socialism. We're going to get a Republic. We'll cut the painter. Curse England!"