lty of this tobacco trick--that it
is about the meanest trick a man could be capable of--_because it spoils
the chances of the next hard-up swaggy who asks the victim for tobacco._

When Brummy and Swampy came to a shed where shearing was in full swing,
they'd inquire, first thing, and with some show of anxiety, if there was
any chance of gettin' on; if the shed was full-handed they'd growl
about hard times, wonder what the country was coming to; talk of their
missuses and kids that they'd left in Sydney, curse the squatters and
the Government, and, next morning, get a supply of rations from the cook
and depart with looks of gloom. If, on the other hand, there was room in
the shed for one or both of them, and the boss told them to go to work
in the morning, they'd keep it quiet from the cook if possible, and
depart, after breakfast, unostentatiously.

Sometimes, at the beginning of a drought, when the tall dead grass was
like tinder for hundreds of miles and a carelessly-dropped match
would set the whole country on fire, Swampy would strike a hard-faced
squatter, manager or overseer with a cold eye, and the conversation
would be somewhat as follows:

Swampy: "Good day, boss!"

Boss (shortly): "'Day."

Swampy: "Any chance of a job?"

Boss: "Naw. Got all I want and we don't start for a fortnight."

Swampy: "Can I git a bit o' meat?"

Boss: "Naw! Don't kill till Saturday."

Swampy: "Pint o' flour?"

Boss: "Naw. Short ourselves."

Swampy: "Bit o' tea or sugar, boss?"

Boss: "Naw--what next?"

Swampy: "Bit o' baccer, boss. Ain't had a smoke for a week."

Boss: "Naw. Ain't got enough for meself till the wagon comes out."

Swampy: "Ah, well! It's hot, ain't it, boss?"

Boss: "Yes-it's hot."

Swampy: "Country very dry?"

Boss: "Yes. Looks like it."

Swampy: "A fire 'ud be very bad just now?"

Boss: "Eh?"

Swampy: "Yes. Now I'm allers very careful with matches an' fire when I'm
on the track."

Boss "Are yer?"

Swampy: "Yes. I never lights a fire near the grass--allers in the middle
of the track--it's the safest place yer can get. An' I allers puts the
fire out afore I leaves the camp. If there ain't no water ter spare
I covers the ashes with dirt. An' some fellers are so careless with
matches lightin' their pipes." (Reflective pause.)

Boss: "Are they?"

Swampy: "Yes. Now, when I lights me pipe on the track in dry weather I
allers rubs the match head up an' drops it in the dust. I never drops
a