arnt at Sunday-school. They were
experts at cards and dice. They would go to immense trouble to work off
any small swindle in the sporting line. In short the general consensus
of opinion was that they were a very "fly" crowd at Mulligan's, and if
you went there you wanted to "keep your eyes skinned" or they'd "have"
you over a threepenny-bit.

There were races at Sydney one Christmas, and a select band of the
Mulligan sportsmen were going down to them. They were in high
feather, having just won a lot of money from a young Englishman at
pigeon-shooting, by the simple method of slipping blank cartridges into
his gun when he wasn't looking, and then backing the bird.

They intended to make a fortune out of the Sydney people, and admirers
who came to see them off only asked them as a favour to leave money
enough in Sydney to make it worth while for another detachment to go
down later on. Just as the train was departing a priest came running on
to the platform, and was bundled into the carriage where our Mulligan
friends were; the door was slammed to, and away they went. His Reverence
was hot and perspiring, and for a few minutes mopped himself with a
handkerchief, while the silence was unbroken except by the rattle of the
train.

After a while one of the Mulligan fraternity got out a pack of cards and
proposed a game to while away the time. There was a young squatter in
the carriage who looked as if he might be induced to lose a few pounds,
and the sportsmen thought they would be neglecting their opportunities
if they did not try to "get a bit to go on with" from him. He agreed to
play, and, just as a matter of courtesy, they asked the priest whether
he would take a hand.

"What game d'ye play?" he asked, in a melodious brogue.

They explained that any game was equally acceptable to them, but they
thought it right to add that they generally played for money.

"Sure an' it don't matter for wanst in a way," said he--"Oi'll take
a hand bedad--Oi'm only going about fifty miles, so Oi can't lose a
fortune."

They lifted a light portmanteau on to their knees to make a table, and
five of them--three of the Mulligan crowd and the two strangers--started
to have a little game of poker. Things looked rosy for the Mulligan
boys, who chuckled as they thought how soon they were making a
beginning, and what a magnificent yarn they would have to tell about how
they rooked a priest on the way down.

Nothing sensational resulted fr