"I not interrupt ?--when I see you great hulks of men--" ("Oh, lor!" groaned Purdy again.) "-- who call yourselves British subjects, letting yourselves be led by the nose, like the sheep you are, by a pack of foreigners who are basely accepting this country's hospital'ty ?" "Here, let me," said Purdy.

And pushing his way along the bench he hobbled to the platform, where several arms hoisted him up.
There he stood, fronting the violent commotion that had ensued on his friend's last words; stood bedraggled, mud-stained, bandaged, his cabbage-tree hat in his hand.

And Mahony, still on his feet, angrily erect, thought he understood why the boy had refused to wash himself clean, or to change his dress: he had no doubt foreseen the possibility of some such dramatic appearance.
Purdy waited for the hubbub to die down.

As if by chance he had rested his hand on the bell; its provoking tinkle ceased.

Now he broke into one of the frank and hearty smiles that never fail to conciliate.
"Brother diggers!" The strongly spoken words induced an abrupt lull.