uv me, Oi say!" He beat with
his fists on its face, and kicked its shins without avail. A short,
staggering rush, a wild shriek from the officer, and they both toppled
over the steep bank and went souse into the depths of Ninemile Creek.

That was the end of the matter. The Genius and his mate returned to town
hurriedly, and lay low, expecting to be indicted for murder. Constable
Dooley drew up a report for the Chief of Police which contained so many
strange statements that the Police department concluded the sergeant
must have got drunk and drowned himself, and that Dooley saw him do it,
but was too drunk to pull him out.

Anyone unacquainted with Ninemile might expect that a report of the
occurrence would have reached the Sydney papers. As a matter of fact the
storekeeper did think of writing one, but decided that it was too much
trouble. There was some idea of asking the Government to fish the two
bodies out of the river; but about that time an agitation was started
in Ninemile to have the Federal Capital located there, and nothing else
mattered.

The Genius discovered a pub in Sydney that kept the Ninemile brand of
whisky, and drank himself to death; the Wombat became a Sub-Inspector of
Police; Sloper entered the Christian ministry; Dodge was elected to the
Federal Parliament; and a vague tradition about "a bloke who came up
here in the horrors, and drownded poor old O'Grady," is the only memory
that remains of that wonderful creation, the Cast-iron Canvasser.

THE MERINO SHEEP

People have got the impression that the merino is a gentle, bleating
animal that gets its living without trouble to anybody, and comes up
every year to be shorn with a pleased smile upon its amiable face. It is
my purpose here to exhibit the merino sheep in its true light.

First let us give him his due. No one can accuse him of being a
ferocious animal. No one could ever say that a sheep attacked him
without provocation; although there is an old bush story of a man who
was discovered in the act of killing a neighbour's wether.

"Hello!" said the neighbour, "What's this? Killing my sheep! What have
you got to say for yourself?"

"Yes," said the man, with an air of virtuous indignation. "I _am_ killing
your sheep. I'll kill _any_ man's sheep that bites _me_!"

But as a rule the merino refrains from using his teeth on people. He
goes to work in another way.

The truth is that he is a dangerous monomaniac, and his one idea i