e hotels, shop girls, factory girls--all sharp-faced and
pert, young in years, but old in knowledge of evil. The demon of
mischief peeped out of their quick-moving, restless eyes. They had
elaborate fringes, and their short dresses exhibited well-turned ankles
and legs.

A large notice on the wall stated that "Gentlemen must not dance with
nails in their boots. Gentlemen must not dance together."

"That blocks us," said Gordon, pointing to the notice. "Can't dance
together, no matter how much we want to. Look at these fellows here."

Opposite the women sat or lounged a score or two of youths--wiry,
hard-faced little fellows, for the most part, with scarcely a sizeable
man amongst them. They were all clothed in "push" evening dress--black
bell-bottomed pants, no waistcoat, very short black paget coat, white
shirt with no collar, and a gaudy neckerchief round the bare throat.
Their boots were marvels, very high in the heel and picked out with
all sorts of colours down the sides. They looked "varminty" enough for
anything; but the shifty eyes, low foreheads, and evil faces gave our
two heroes a sense of disgust. The Englishman thought that all the
stories he had heard of the Australian larrikin must be exaggerated,
and that any man who was at all athletic could easily hold his own among
such a poor-looking lot. The whole spectacle was disappointing. The most
elaborately decorous order prevailed; no excitement or rough play was
noticeable, and their expedition seemed likely to be a failure.

The bushman stared down the room with far-seeing eyes, apparently
looking at nothing, and contemplated the whole show with bored
indifference.

"Nothing very dazzling about this," he said. "I'm afraid we can't show
you anything very exciting here. Better go back to the club, eh?"

Just then the band (piano and violin) struck up a slow, laboured waltz,
"Bid me Good-bye and go," and each black-coated male, with languid
self-possession, strolled across the room, seized a lady by the arm,
jerked her to her feet without saying a syllable, and commenced to dance
in slow, convulsive movements, making a great many revolutions for very
little progress. Two or three girls were left sitting, as their partners
were talking in a little knot at the far end of the room; one among
them was conspicuously pretty, and she began to ogle Carew in a very
pronounced way.

"There's one hasn't got a partner," said Gordon. "Good-looking Tottie,
too. Go a