oblong weather-board building--unpainted, and generally leaning in one
of the eight possible directions, and perhaps with a twist in
another--which, from its half-obliterated sign, seems to have started
as a rival to the Railway Stores; but the shutters are up and the
place empty.

The only town I saw that differed much from the above consisted of a
box-bark humpy with a clay chimney, and a woman standing at the door
throwing out the wash-up water.

By way of variety, the artist might make a water-colour sketch of a
fettler's tent on the line, with a billy hanging over the fire in
front, and three fettlers standing round filling their pipes.

Slop sac suits, red faces, and old-fashioned, flat-brimmed hats, with
wire round the brims, begin to drop into the train on the other side
of Bathurst; and here and there a hat with three inches of crape round
the crown, which perhaps signifies death in the family at some remote
date, and perhaps doesn't. Sometimes, I believe, it only means grease
under the band. I notice that when a bushman puts crape round his hat
he generally leaves it there till the hat wears out, or another friend
dies. In the latter case, he buys a new piece of crape. This outward
sign of bereavement usually has a jolly red face beneath it. Death is
about the only cheerful thing in the bush.

We crossed the Macquarie--a narrow, muddy gutter with a dog swimming
across, and three goats interested.

A little farther on we saw the first sundowner. He carried a Royal
Alfred, and had a billy in one hand and a stick in the other. He was