drinks. After a time I heard the sound of voices and approaching footsteps at the back.
Suddenly in rushed a dog and stopped in petrified surprise, to be followed by several children, who all also struck the same attitude and gazed at me in astonishment.
“Is this an hotel, or what is it?” I asked of the dog, who seemed to be the most intelligent looking. “I want something to eat and drink.” The dog turned tail and fled, followed by the children.
In a few minutes they returned accompanied by the landlord and his wife—Ould Oireland written all over them. Of course I could have lunch; and the whole family, dog and all, set-to at once to prepare; and to say they were cordial is to put it lightly, why such excitement I could not think.
The luncheon put before me was cold salmon, some of the Lake Creek corned beef, with a dish of vegetables and a bowl of potatoes that would have done for a regiment, a huge apple tart with cream, and a quart bottle of Bass’s Ale. No danger of starving, anyway. Friendly and attentive was no word for the family and the dog, and their brogue—for I am sure the dog had a brogue too—was as bountiful as their fare. When finished, I asked what I had to pay. After consulting the dog and the children and long debating it, they said they had no idea what to charge me, but did I think 1s. 6d. would be too much?
“But,” I said, “that must be the price of the beer alone,” a quart bottle of Bass is not got for nothing in Queensland.
“Sure, now, but ye’ve niver drunk it all at all!”
“That makes no difference,” I said, “no one else can drink it.”
