As to Mr.Beamish's idea of the gold giving out, the geological formation of the goldfields rendered that improbable.

He sympathised with the squatters, who naturally enough believed their rights to the land inalienable; but a government worthy of the name must legislate with an eye to the future, not for the present alone.
Their talk was broken by long gaps.

In these, the resonant voice of Mrs.Beamish could be heard rebuking and directing her two handmaidens.
"Now then, Jinny, look alive, an' don't ack like a dyin' duck in a thunderstorm, or you'll never get back to do YOUR bit o' spoonin'!-- Save them bones, Polly.

Never waste an atom, my chuck--remember that, when you've got an 'ouse of your own! No, girls, I always says, through their stomachs, that's the shortcut to their 'earts.

The rest's on'y fal-de-lal-ing."-- On the verandah, in face of the vasty, star-spangled night, Tilly's head had found its resting-place, and an arm lay round her waist.
"I shall make 'im cut off 'is beard first thing," said Jinny that night: she was sitting half-undressed on the side of a big bed, which the three girls shared with one another.
"Um! just you wait and see if it's as easy as you think," retorted Tilly from her pillow.