"Pollifex," said the Captain, "what do you make of these?"
"Gentlemen," said the Secretary, curtly.
"So I make out," said the Captain; "and apparently in good condition,
too. A very well fed man that biggest, I should say."
"Ye-es; well, ye-es," said the Secretary; "he does look well-fed
enough. He must be a stranger to these parts; probably from the Maneroo
plains, or thereabout."
"What makes you think so?"
"Dear me," said the Secretary; "have you been stationed nearly three
years on this coast, and ask how a man could possibly be in good
condition living in those scrubby heaths?"
"Bad-looking country; eh?" said the Captain.
"Small cattle-stations, sir," said the Secretary, "I can see at a
glance. Salt beef, very tough, and very little of it. I shall run a
bill through the House for the abolition of small cattle-stations next
session."
"Better get your estimates through first, old fellow. The bagpipes will
play quite loud enough over them to last for some time."
"I know it, but tremble not," replied the undaunted Secretary; "I have
got used to it. I fancy I hear Callaghan beginning now: 'The unbridled
prodigality, sir, and the reckless profligacy, sir, of those
individuals who have so long, under the name of government----'"
"That'll do, now," said the Captain; "you are worse than the reality.
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