he told her tale.

"Some of the old gents in the town of Gool-Gool come out an' shook
hands with me, an' the ladies kissed me w'en I got down off of the
box. There was a lawyer feller considered a great lady-killer in them
days. He had a long beard shaved in the Dundreary,--Dawn always says
he must have been a howler with a beard of that description; but times
change, an' these clean-faced women-lookin' fellers the girls think is
very smart now will look just as strange by-an'-by. However, he was
runnin' strong with me, an' me mother considered him favourable,--him
bein' a swell an' makin' his way. Soon as ever I started runnin' the
coach he was took with a lot of business down the road, an' used to be
nearly always a passenger."

"It appears that sweetheart tactics have not changed if the style in
beards has," I remarked with a smile.

"No, an' they'll never change, seein' a man is a man an' a girl a
girl, no matter what fashions come an' go. I never can see why they
make such a fuss and get so frightened because wimmen does a thing or
two now they usedn't to. Nothing short of a earthquake can make them
not men an' wimmen, an' that's the main thing. Well, to go back to me
yarn, lots of other passengers got took the same way, an' there was
great bidding for the box seat: that was a perquisite belongin' to the
driver, an' me father used to get a sovereign for it often. I used to
dispose of it by a sort of tender, an' L5 was nothink for it; an' once
in the gold-rush times, w'en money was laying around like water, a big
miner, just to show off, gave me two tenners for it. They used to be
wantin' to drive, but I took me father's advice an' never let go the
reins. Well, among all these fine chaps Jim Clay wasn't noticed. He
was always a terrible quiet feller. _I_ did all the jorin'. He'd
always say, 'Come now, Martha, there's reason in everythink,' just
w'en I'd be mad because I couldn't see no reason in nothink. He was
sittin' in the back of the coach, an' it was one wet night, an' only a
few passengers for a wonder, who was glad to take refuge inside. Only
the lawyer feller was out on the box with me, an' makin' love heavier
than it was rainin'. I staved him off all I could, an' with him an'
the horses me hands was full. You never see the like of the roads in
them days. It was only in later years the Sydney road, I was
remarkin', was made good. In them times there was no made roads, and
you can imagine the bogs! Why, so