garden to prove that all tropical products can be raised to perfection
without mentioning the difficulty in a White Australia of finding the
labour to do it.'

'Oh, don't rub it in, Colin. I'm only a special reporter, and even
special reporters can't know everything. Now, do just sit down and let
me ask you questions. And first of all, do you want a whiskey peg or a
cup of tea, or what?--I've had my late breakfast.'

'I'll have a smoke, please. Been swearing off store baccy now I'm down
from the Bush. I'm trying hard to smoke cigarettes like one of your
English toffs.'

He pulled out a copper cigarette case with some hieroglyphical letters
and numbers stamped on it, which he regarded with a humorous smile.

'Only cost a shilling, but now I've my brand across, it looks fine. You
know that by the Brands Act you've got to have a number and two letters
on every head of stock--My brand's the Mark of the Beast 666 C.K.
See?'

He fixed his cigarette into a new amber mouthpiece, made a wry face,
and began to smoke.

'I don't think much of your quality of cigarettes,' said Mrs Gildea.
'On the whole, I prefer your tobacco.'

'All right. Give me my pipe any day--' And he pitched away the
cigarette and produced an ancient pipe, which he filled with tobacco
from an india-rubber pouch and lighted. 'Now, fire away.'