f
superior persons. You see, the Kangaroo Marines were nominally a
Sydney crowd. Therefore the Melbourne boys showered on them all the
envy which Melbourne has for Sydney. To understand this point
thoroughly you must have lived in Australia. Between Melbourne and
Sydney there exists a feud as fierce as an Italian vendetta. This
animosity crystallises the more general hatred of the respective
States--Victoria and New South Wales. Both sides think they are the
Lord's Anointed. A Governor-General in any speech must be careful to
whitewash both States with the same degree of eyewash. Friendships,
fortunes, and reputations have been lost in this really amusing
controversy. Indeed, they are like the farmers of Kerry--they go to
law if a hen roosts for a second in the enemy's barnyard.

Picture the scene then--two corps side by side, and imagine the
language. The first trouble arose through a pioneer of the Kangaroos
dropping a shovelful of dirt in the lines of the Melbourne men. The
offender was Bill Buster.

"Get out of this, ye Sydney rattlesnake," chirped a youth, looking out
of his tent.

"Worm!" exclaimed Bill contemptuously.

"Ye dirty-necked beachcomber, I'll split yer pumpkin head."

"Take that," shouted Bill, throwing a shovelful of manure into the tent
of his aggressor. Honour, of course, had to be satisfied after that.
The Melbourne man got a broken nose, and Bill had two lovely black eyes.

Both regiments decided to have revenge, and, for that purpose, secret
meetings were called. The Melbourne boys decided to leave their
affairs in the hands of Happy Harry, a local comedian. He was given
liberty to spend anything up to twenty pounds on a scheme of revenge.
In the case of the Kangaroos it was decided by ballot that Bill would
plan out something to stagger the Melbourne crowd. Meantime, armed
neutrality reigned; yet the air seemed charged with the spirit of
friction and the feeling of secret preparation. Remarkable to relate,
both schemes panned out on the morning of the same day. The Melbourne
Nuts woke up to see, in great, black, varnished letters, across their
huge dining-tent, the following:

MELBOURNE
IS A
ONE-EYED TOWN
FULL OF
SNIVELLING SNOBS,
PAWNSHOPS, AND GROG SALOONS.

This was a good stroke for the Sydney men, but the Melbourne men had,
also, a neat revenge. That morning, an old broken-down donkey was
found wandering