“Go on, Ging—Native, I mean. Talk Australian,” commanded William.
“Monkey, donkey, fluky, tim-tim,” said Ginger, “an’ crumbs, isn’t it hot?”
“Call that Australian?” said the audience indignantly.
“Well,” said William loftily, “he’s nat’rally learnt a bit of English comin’ over here.” Then, taking up one of the unrecognisable wooden shapes and handing it to the little girl: “Here, you can have that if you’ll shut up an’ it’s worth ever so much, I can tell you. It’s valu’ble.”
She took it, beaming with smiles through her tears.
“I ’spect some of you’d like to buy some?” said William.
His audience hastily and indignantly repudiated the suggestion.
“What do I do now?” said Ginger.
“You jus’ wait for the next lot,” said William covering him up with the sacking. Ginger sat down again muttering disconsolately about the heat beneath his sacking.
Henry was a Canadian and Douglas was an Egyptian. Both were pasted with blacking and both shone with streaky moisture. Henry wore a large cretonne cushion cover and Douglas wore a smock that had been made for use in charades last Christmas. Both obligingly talked in their native language. Douglas, who was learning Latin, said, “Bonus, bona, bonum, bonum, bonam, bonum,” to the fury and indignation of his audience.