"Yes! yes!" (the clamour was really deafening.)
"Are you ready to die?" shouted out our worthy chairman, stretching forth his right hand, clenched all the while; "Are you ready to die?"
"Yes, Yes! Hurrah!"
This general decided clamour put out Tim in such good spirits, that, in spite of the heat of the sun and the excitement of the day, he launched in the realm of crowned poets, and bawled as loud as if he wanted the head-butler at Toorak to take him a quart-pot of smallbeer—
"On to the field, our doom is sealed,
To conquer or be slaves;
The sun shall see our country free.
Or set upon our graves."
(Great works!)
No one who was not present at that monster meeting, or never saw any Chartist meeting in Copenhagen-fields, London, can possibly form an idea of the enthusiasm of the miners of Ballaarat on that 29th of November. A regular volley of revolvers and other pistols now took place, and a good blazing up of gold-licences. When the original resolutions had all been passed, Mr. Humffray moved a vote of thanks to Mr. Ireland, for his free advocacy of the state prisoners. The meeting then dissolved, many of them having previously burned their licences, and thus virtually pledging themselves to the resolution adopted, which might be said to have been the business of the day. Nothing could exceed the order and regularity with which the people, some fifteen thousand in number, retired.
Chapter XXXII.
Ecco Troncato Il Canto Per Ritornare Al Pianto.
My letter to Mr. Archer continued:-