There was the usual bar at one end, the usual noise going on inside, and the usual groups of bush loafers outside.

Several riding horses were hitched up to the palings at a right angle with the Bar, and a bullock dray loaded with wool-bales--on the top of which a whole family appeared to reside under a canvas tilt--was drawn up in the road.

The beasts were a repulsive sight, with whip-weals on their panting sides, their great heads bowed under the yoke and their slavering tongues protruding.

Bridget looked at everything with a wide detached gaze, as she followed her husband along the hotel veranda.
McKeith, motioning to his wife to proceed, stopped to peer at the faces of two men lying in a drunken sleep on the boards.
'Not my men, anyway,' he said, rejoining her.

'But that will keep.' The place seemed deserted and in disorder.