h his forefinger, at the end of every line:

Hall!--Round!--Me--Hat!
I wore a weepin' willer!

Jimmy is a Cockney.

"Now then, boys!"

Hall--round--me hat!

How many old diggers remember it?

And:

A butcher, and a baker, and a quiet-looking quaker,
All a-courting pretty Jessie at the Railway Bar.

I used to wonder as a child what the "railway bar" meant.

And:

I would, I would, I would in vain
That I were single once again!
But ah, alas, that will not be
Till apples grow on the willow tree.

A drunken gambler's young wife used to sing that song--to herself.

A stir at the kitchen door, and a cry of "Pinter," and old Poynton,
Ballarat digger, appears and is shoved in; he has several drinks aboard,
and they proceed to "git Pinter on the singin' lay," and at last talk
him round. He has a good voice, but no "theory", and blunders worse than
Jimmy Nowlett with the words. He starts with a howl--

Hoh!
Way down in Covent Gar-ar-r-dings
A-strolling I did go,
To see the sweetest flow-ow-wers
That e'er in gardings grow.

He saw the rose and lily--the red and white and blue--and he saw the
sweetest flow-ow-ers that e'er in gardings grew; for he saw two lovely
maidens (Pinter calls 'em "virgings") underneath (he must have meant on
top of) "a garding chair", sings Pinter.

And one was lovely Jessie,
With the jet black eyes and hair,

roars Pinter,

And the other was a vir-ir-ging,
I solemn-lye declare!

"Maiden, Pinter!" interjects Mr. Nowlett.

"Well, it's all the same," retorts Pinter. "A maiden IS a virging,
Jimmy. If you're singing, Jimmy, and not me, I'll leave off!" Chorus of
"Order! Shut up, Jimmy!"

I quicklye step-ped up to her,
And unto her did sa-a-y:
Do you belong to any young man,
Hoh, tell me that, I pra-a-y?

Her answer, according to Pinter, was surprisingly prompt and
unconventional; also full and concise:

No; I belong to no young man--
I solemnlye declare!
I mean to live a virging
And still my laurels wear!

Jimmy Nowlett attempts to move an amendment in favour of "maiden",
but is promptly suppressed. It seems that Pinter's suit has a happy
termination, for he is supposed to sing in the character of a "Sailor
Bold", and as he turns to pursue his stroll in "Covent Gar-ar-dings":

"Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no!" she cried,
"I love a Sailor Bold!"

"Hong-kore,