and the Royal.

"One day it was raining -- general rain for a week. Rain, rain, rain,
over ridge and scrub and galvanised iron and into the dismal creeks.
I'd done all my inside work, except a bit under the Doctor's verandah,
where he'd been having some patching and altering done
round the glass doors of his surgery, where he consulted his patients.
I didn't want to lose time. It was a Monday and no day for the Royal,
and there was no dust, so it was a good day for varnishing.
I took a pot and brush and went along to give the Doctor's doors
a coat of varnish. The Doctor and Drew were inside with a fire,
drinking whisky and smoking, but I didn't know that when I started work.
The rain roared on the iron roof like the sea. All of a sudden it held up
for a minute, and I heard their voices. The doctor had been shouting
on account of the rain, and forgot to lower his voice.
`Look here, Jack Drew,' he said, `there are only two things for you to do
if you have any regard for that girl; one is to stop this'
(the liquor I suppose he meant) `and pull yourself together;
and I don't think you'll do that -- I know men. The other
is to throw up the `Advertiser' -- it's doing you no good -- and clear out.'
`I won't do that,' says Drew. `Then shoot yourself,' said the Doctor.
`(There's another flask in the cupboard). You know what this hole
is like. . . . She's a good true girl -- a girl as God made her.
I knew her father and mother, and I tell you, Jack, I'd sooner
see her dead than. . . .' The roof roared again. I felt
a bit delicate about the business and didn't like to disturb them,
so I knocked off for the day.

"About a week before that I was down in the bed of the Redclay Creek
fishing for `tailers'. I'd been getting on all right with the housemaid