here were the diseased, the
educated, the ignorant, the deformed, the blind, the evil, the honest,
the mad, and the sane. Some in real professional beggars' style called
down blessings on me; others were morose and glum, while some were
impudent and thankless, and said to supply them with food was just what I
should do, for the swagmen kept the squatters--as, had the squatters not
monopolized the land, the swagmen would have had plenty. A moiety of the
last-mentioned--dirty, besotted, ragged creatures--had a glare in their
eyes which made one shudder to look at them, and, while spasmodically
twirling their billies or clenching their fists, talked wildly of making
one to "bust up the damn banks", or to drive all the present squatters
out of the country and put the people on the land--clearly showing that,
because they had failed for one reason or another, it had maddened them
to see others succeed.

In a wide young country of boundless resources, why is this thing? This
question worried me. Our legislators are unable or unwilling to cope with
it. They trouble not to be patriots and statesmen. Australia can bring
forth writers, orators, financiers, singers, musicians, actors, and
athletes which are second to none of any nation under the sun. Why can
she not bear sons, men of soul, mind, truth, godliness, and patriotism
sufficient to rise and cast off the grim shackles which widen round us
day by day?

I was the only one at Caddagat who held these silly ideas.
Harold Beecham, uncle Julius, grannie, and Frank Hawden did not worry
about the cause of tramps. They simply termed them a lazy lot of
sneaking creatures, fed them, and thought no more of the matter.

I broached the subject to uncle Jay-Jay once, simply to discover his
ideas thereon.

I was sitting on a chair in the veranda sewing; he, with his head on a
cushion, was comfortably stretched on a rug on the floor.

"Uncle Boss, why can't something be done for tramps?"

"How done for 'em?"

"Couldn't some means of employing them be arrived at?"

"Work!" he ejaculated. "That's the very thing the crawling divils are
terrified they might get."

"Yes; but couldn't some law be made to help them?"

"A law to make me cut up Caddagat and give ten of 'em each a piece, and
go on the wallaby myself, I suppose?"

"No, uncle; but there was a poor young fellow here this morning who, I
feel sure, was in earnest when he asked for work."

"Helen!" bawled uncle Jay-Jay.