the wall and fell into a gentle slumber; so that Pitman found himself
launched on his own resources in the midst of several staring loafers,
such as love to spend unprofitable days about a stable. 'Rough day,
sir,' observed one. 'Do you go far?'

'Yes, it's a--rather a rough day,' said the artist; and then, feeling
that he must change the conversation, 'My friend is an Australian; he is
very impulsive,' he added.

'An Australian?' said another. 'I've a brother myself in Melbourne. Does
your friend come from that way at all?'

'No, not exactly,' replied the artist, whose ideas of the geography of
New Holland were a little scattered. 'He lives immensely far inland, and
is very rich.'

The loafers gazed with great respect upon the slumbering colonist.

'Well,' remarked the second speaker, 'it's a mighty big place, is
Australia. Do you come from thereaway too?'

'No, I do not,' said Pitman. 'I do not, and I don't want to,' he added
irritably. And then, feeling some diversion needful, he fell upon
Michael and shook him up.

'Hullo,' said the lawyer, 'what's wrong?'

'The cart is nearly ready,' said Pitman sternly. 'I will not allow you
to sleep.'