anger was a true gentleman, and did not use his
boots.

In the second round Nosey showed more caution, but the result was the
same, and it was brought about by another hard blow on the temple.
The third round finished the fight. Nosey lay on the ground so long
that Bill, the Butcher, went over to look at him, and then he threw
up the sponge--metaphorically--as there was no sponge, nor any
need of one.

The defeated Nosey staggered towards his hut, and his temper was
afterwards so bad that Julia declined to stay with him any longer;
she loosed the marriage bonds without recourse to law, and
disappeared. Her husband went away westward, but he did not stay
long. He returned to Nyalong and lived awhile alone in his hut there,
but he was restless and dissatisfied. Everybody looked at him so
curiously. Even the women and children stood still as he passed by
them, and began whispering to one another, and he guessed well enough
why they were looking at him and what they were saying--"That's
Nosey the murderer; he killed Baldy and hid him away somewhere; his
wife said he ought to be hanged, and she has run away and left him."

When the hungry hawk comes circling over the grove of crookedy gum in
which two magpies are feeding their callow young, the bush is soon
filled with cries of alarm. The plump quail hides himself in the
depths of a thick tussock; the bronze-winged pigeon dives into the
shelter of the nearest scrub, while all the noisiest scolds of the
air gather round the intruder. Every magpie, minah, and wattle-bird
within a mile joins in the clamour. They dart at the hawk as he
flies from tree to tree. When he alights on a limb they give him no
peace; they flap their wings in his face, and call him the worst of
names. Even the Derwent Jackass, the hypocrite with the shining
black coat and piercing whistle, joins in the public outcry, and his
character is worse than that of the hawk himself, for he has been
caught in the act of kidnapping and devouring the unfledged young of
his nearest neighbour. The distracted hawk has at length to retreat
dinnerless to the swampy margin of the river where the tallest
tea-trees wave their feathery tops in the wind.

In like manner the human hawk was driven from the township. He
descended in the scale of crime, stole a horse, and departed by night.

Bill, the butcher, said next day: "Nosey has gone for good this
time. He will ride that horse to death and then steal ano