ved on so far
west. The old bush school is dyin' out."

There was a smile in his eyes, but his bearded lips twitched a little.

"Things is changed. The old houses is pretty much the same, an' the old
signs want touchin' up and paintin' jest as had as ever; an' there's
that old palin' fence that me an' Ben Hake an' Jimmy Nowlett put up
twenty year ago. I've tramped and travelled long ways since then. But
things is changed--at least, people is.... Well, I must be goin'. There's
nothing to keep me here. I'll push on and get into my track again. It's
cooler travellin' in the night."

"Yes, it's been pretty hot to-day."

"Yes, it has. Well, s'long."

"Good day. Merry Christmas!"

"Eh? What? Oh, yes! Same to you! S'long!"

"Good day!" He drifted out and away along Sunset Track.

REMAILED

There is an old custom prevalent in Australasia--and other parts, too,
perhaps, for that matter--which, we think, deserves to be written up.
It might not be an "honoured" custom from a newspaper manager's or
proprietor's point of view, or from the point of view (if any)
occupied by the shareholders on the subject; but, nevertheless, it is
a time-honoured and a good old custom. Perhaps, for several reasons,
it was more prevalent among diggers than with the comparatively settled
bushmen of to-day--the poor, hopeless, wandering swaggy doesn't count
in the matter, for he has neither the wherewithal nor the opportunity
to honour the old custom; also his movements are too sadly uncertain
to permit of his being honoured by it. We refer to the remailing of
newspapers and journals from one mate to another.

Bill gets his paper and reads it through conscientiously from beginning
to end by candle or slush-lamp as he lies on his back in the hut or tent
with his pipe in his mouth; or, better still, on a Sunday afternoon as
he reclines on the grass in the shade, in all the glory and comfort of
a clean pair of moleskins and socks and a clean shirt. And when he has
finished reading the paper--if it is not immediately bespoke--he turns
it right side out, folds it, and puts it away where he'll know where to
find it. The paper is generally bespoke in the following manner:

"Let's have a look at that paper after you, Bill, when yer done with
it," says Jack.

And Bill says:

"I just promised it to Bob. You can get it after him."

And, when it is finally lent, Bill says:

"Don't forget to give that paper back to me when yer done with