ould cast her vote for Leslie Walker.

The political candidate thus favoured scarcely allowed three days to
pass without personally or by proxy stumping the Noonoon end of the
electorate. His last meeting in the Citizens' Hall was jam-pack an
hour before the advertised time of speaking.

The candidate on this occasion made no fresh utterances to entertain,
he merely repeated the catch cries of his party; but the air was
heavily charged with human electricity, and the questions and
"barracking" of the crowd were supremely diverting.

"Are you in favour of the Chows going to South Africa?" bawled one
elector.

"My dear fellow, we are going to govern New South Wales--not South
Africa."

"Yes; but when we sent contingents out to fight for the Empire in the
Transvaal, do you think it fair that white men should be passed over
in favour of Chows in the South African labour market?"

This question being ignored another was interjected.

"Are you in favour of the newspapers running New South Wales?"

"Certainly not!"

This being a satisfactory answer, the old favourite question, "Are you
in favour of black gins wearing white stockings?" was put; and the
candidate having assured us that, provided they could manage the
laundry bill, he certainly was in favour of these ladies wearing any
hosiery they preferred; and the loud guffaw which greeted this
information having subsided, he continued--

"Now, don't vote for _me_ or for _Henderson_,--vote for the best
measures for the country. (Henderson was driving the personal ticket
of having lived among them,--hence this warning.) I think it an
unparalleled impertinence for a man to ask an intelligent body of
electors to vote for _him_--"

"When there's a swell bloke like you in the field."

"Pip! pip! Hooray! Cock-a-doodle-do!" came the chorus. The "Pip! pip!"
was a new sound to them, having been introduced to represent the noise
made by the propulsion of a motor-car, in which set the candidate
shone.

"Are you in favour of gas and water running up the one pipe?" inquired
another, when the din had once more fallen to comparative silence.

"Don't you think that ladies ought to wear big boots now that they've
got the vote?"

All such important questions having been put, the chairman called for
three cheers for Mr Walker.

"Three cheers for Henderson," yelled the rabble at the back, which
were given deafeningly, and the candidate, with the lively tact which
bade fair t