people. We were awfully frightened, and didn't say anything.
Nobody saw it but us. The dog had the presence of mind to leave at once,
and the respected townsman was picked up and taken home in a cab; and
he got it hot from his wife, too, I believe, for being in that drunken,
beastly state in the main street in the middle of the day.

"I don't think he was ever quite sure that he hadn't been drunk or
what had happened, for he had had one or two that morning; so it didn't
matter much. Only we lost the dog.

"One day I went downstairs to the packing-room and saw a lot of
phosphorus in jars of water. I wanted to fix up a ghost for Billy, my
mate, so I nicked a bit and slipped it into my trouser pocket.

"I stood under the tap and let it pour on me. The phosphorus burnt clean
through my pocket and fell on the ground. I was sent home that night
with my leg dressed with lime-water and oil, and a pair of the boss's
pants on that were about half a yard too long for me, and I felt
miserable enough, too. They said it would stop my tricks for a while,
and so it did. I'll carry the mark to my dying day--and for two or three
days after, for that matter."

. . . . .

I fell asleep at this point, and left Mitchell's cattle pup to hear it
out.

Bill, the Ventriloquial Rooster

"When we were up country on the selection, we had a rooster at our
place, named Bill," said Mitchell; "a big mongrel of no particular
breed, though the old lady said he was a 'brammer'--and many an argument
she had with the old man about it too; she was just as stubborn and
obstinate in her opinion as the governor was in his. But, anyway, we
called him Bill, and didn't take any particular notice of him till a
cousin of some of us came from Sydney on a visit to the country, and
stayed at our place because it was cheaper than stopping at a pub. Well,
somehow this chap got interested in Bill, and studied him for two or
three days, and at last he says:

"'Why, that rooster's a ventriloquist!'

"'A what?'

"'A ventriloquist!'

"'Go along with yer!'

"'But he is. I've heard of cases like this before; but this is the first
I've come across. Bill's a ventriloquist right enough.'

"Then we remembered that there wasn't another rooster within five
miles--our only neighbour, an Irishman named Page, didn't have one at
the time--and we'd often heard another cock crow, but didn't think
to take any notice of it. We watched Bill, and sure en