--a man, need I say more?"

There were loud cheers, in which Bindle joined.

In proposing the toast of the evening, Dick Little dwelt upon the
distinction conferred upon Oxford in general and St. Joseph's in
particular by Reginald Graves in selecting it from out of the myriad
other universities and colleges. He touched lightly upon the love
Graves had inspired in the hearts of his contemporaries; but never
greater than when he had generously decided to share with them his
uncle.

"This uncle," he continued, "has raised mutton and a nephew, and it is
difficult to decide which of the two the men of St. Joseph's love the
more: Josiah's mutton, or Josiah's nephew.

"Gentlemen, fellow-wanderers along the paths of knowledge, I give you
the toast, Mr. Josiah Williams of Moonagoona, and with that toast I
crave your permission to associate all his bleating sheep."

The whole assembly sprang to its feet, cheering wildly, among the
others Bindle, who drank his own health with gusto and enthusiasm.

The shouts that greeted Bindle when he rose to respond to the toast
created a record even for Bungem's. Bindle gazed round him
imperturbably, as if the making of a speech were to him an everyday
matter.

In his right hand he held a cigar, and three fingers of his left hand
rested lightly upon the edge of the table. When the din had subsided
he began.

"Gentlemen, I never knew 'ow fortunate I was until now. I been raisin'
sheep and 'ell in Moonagoona for years, forgettin' all about this 'ere
little cherub," Bindle indicated Graves with a wave of his hand, "and
all the jolly times I might 'ave 'ad through 'im. Moonagoona ain't
exactly a paradise, it's too 'ot for that; still, if any of yer ever
manages to find yer way there you'll be lucky, and you'll be luckier
still if yer finds yours truly there at the same time. No; I done
raisin' 'ell an' mutton, bein' too old for one an' too tired for the
other.

"When I decided to 'ave a nephew I prayed 'ard for a good 'un, an' they
sent me this little chap." Bindle patted Reggie's head affectionately
amidst resounding cheers. "'E ain't much to look at," continued
Bindle, with a grin, "'e ain't the beauty 'is uncle was at 'is age;
still, 'e seems to 'ave a rare lot o' pals."

More eyes were watching Graves than Bindle. His face was very white
and set, and he strove to smile; but it was a sickly effort. His
immediate neighbours noticed that his glass, which those around him
w