‘Well, I may say—that is, I believe I’m a Protestant; I don’t know about any denomination in particular. There’s good men in all of them. I respect a man who does the work well that he believes in, and is paid for doing. That’s my view of the matter.’
‘But the glorious tenets of the Reformation to which the English Church has ever held firmly ought to commend its teachings to every open-minded intelligent man,’ said Ernest, a little moved.
‘I can’t say,’ said Mr. Smith slowly; ‘I don’t know if we should believe in old Harry the Eighth much in the present day. He wouldn’t quite do for us out here, though I reckon him a grand Englishman in many ways. Here’s the inn, and I’m not above owning I’m ready for a chop.’
The horses were put into the stable; Mr. Neuchamp conveyed his knapsack into a bedroom, and in a comparatively short time joined Mr. Smith at one of the most tempting meals he had lately encountered.
It was past mid-day, and nothing in the way of disparagement could have been fairly said against the appetite of either gentleman. ‘What will you take, beer or wine?’ asked Mr. Smith, ringing the bell as they sat down.
Ernest thought pale ale not inappropriate, though he wondered at his theoretically economical friend being so luxurious in practice. ‘Just the way with all these bushmen,’ he thought. ‘This poor fellow will have to go without something for this; but I won’t hurt his feelings by refusing to join him.’
‘Bring in some bottled beer, then,’ said Mr. Smith. The waiter flew to execute his command.
‘Here,’ thought Ernest, ‘is another example of the superior sympathy of colonial manners. Here is the poor overseer, working his way up in the world, and he is treated with as much deference as if he were a wealthy man. There is nothing like a colony for the repression of vulgar servility to mere wealth.’
Here the waiter, bearing beer, reappeared.
‘I don’t take anything but tea myself,’ said Mr. Smith, ‘but to those who are used to it cool bitter beer goes well in any kind of weather. Anything is better than the confounded hard stuff.’