"Well, Mr.Jerry, how goes it ?" asked the stranger.

"What, Bos, is that you?
What brings you up to Boolabong?
I thought you was ringing trees for that young scut at Gangoil?
I'll be even with him some of these days! He had the impudence to send a man of his up here last week looking for sheep-skins." "He wasn't that soft, Mr.Jerry, was he?
Well, I've dropped working for him .-- How are you, Mr.Brownbie?
I hope I see you finely, Sir.
It's stiffish sort of weather, Mr.Brownbie, ain't it, Sir ?" The old man grunted out some reply, and then asked Boscobel what he wanted.
"I'll just hang about for the day, Mr.Brownbie, and get a little grub.

You never begrudged a working-man that yet." Old Brownbie again grunted, but said no word of welcome.

That, however, was to be taken for granted, without much expression of opinion.
"No, Mr.Jerry," continued Boscobel, "I've done with that fellow." "And so has Nokes done with him." "Nokes is at work on Medlicot's Mill.

That sugar business wouldn't suit me." "An axe in your hand is what you're fit for, Bos." "There's a many things I can turn my hand to, Mr.Jerry.You couldn't give a fellow such a thing as a nobbler, Mr.Jerry, could you?
I'd offer money for it, only I know it would be taken amiss.