lot about them New Englan' gals;
but I'll back the Darlin' girls to lick 'em holler as far's looks is
concerned," says Dave.

But no; she wouldn't speak. She wouldn't even smile. Dave didn't
say nothing for awhile, and then he said: "Did you hear about that
red-headed barmaid at Stiffner's goin' to be married to the bank manager
at Bourke next month, Joe?" says Dave.

But no, not a single word out of her; she didn't even look up, or look
as if she wanted to speak.

Dave scratched his ear and went on with his puddin' for awhile. Then
he said: "Joe, did you hear that yarn about young Scotty and old
whatchisname's missus?"

"Yes," I says; "but I think it was the daughter, not the wife, and young
Scotty," I says.

But it wasn't no go; that girl wouldn't speak.

Dave shut up for a good while, but presently I says to Dave "I see that
them hoops is comin' in again, Dave. The paper says that this here Lady
Duff had one on when she landed."

"Yes, I heard about it," says Dave. "I'd like to see my wife in one, but
I s'pose a woman must wear what all the rest does."

And do you think that girl would speak? Not a blanky word.

We finished our second puddin' and fourth cup of tea, and I was just
gettin' up when Dave catches holt on my arm, like that, and pulls me
down into my chair again.

"'Old on," whispers Dave; "I'm goin' to make that blanky gal speak."

"You won't," I says.

"Bet you a five-pound note," says Dave.

"All right," I says.

So I sits down again, and Dave whistles to the girl, and he passes along
his cup and mine. She filled 'em at once, without a word, and we got
outside our fifth cup of tea each. Then Dave jingled his spoon, and
passed both cups along again. She put some hot water in the pot this
time, and, after we'd drunk another couple of cups, Dave muttered
somethin' about drownin' the miller.

"We want tea, not warm water," he growled, lookin' sulky and passin'
along both cups again.

But she never opened her mouth; she wouldn't speak. She didn't even,
look cross. She made a fresh pot of tea, and filled our cups again.
She didn't even slam the cups down, or swamp the tea over into the
saucers--which would have been quite natural, considerin'.

"I'm about done," I said to Dave in a low whisper. "We'll have to give
it up, I'm afraid, Dave," I says.

"I'll make her speak, or bust myself," says Dave.

And I'm blest if he didn't go on till I was so blanky full of tea that
it brimmed over