ole bones. Were I not
an Englishman I would be an American, to use the words of Alexander,
altered to suit the occasion."

"May I ask if you belong here in Ballarat?" I demanded, with the
intention of finding out what his business and prospects were.

"To tell you the truth, I am here on what your countrymen call a
'bender;' a freak that assails me about once in three months, and after
it is over I return to my stock-house and think how great a man can be,
and yet how little."

"Then you are a stockman?" I said.

"That is not what I am termed," he cried, with an expression of pride
upon his dark face. "I employ stockmen to look after my cattle, but I am
called a proprietor."

"I always supposed that proprietors preferred to live in the large
cities, and trust their flocks and herds to employees," Fred said,
dryly.

"What is it to you what I prefer?" he demanded, turning on Fred
fiercely. "Have I not a right to do as I please as long as I am my own
master, and pay those who work for me?"

"No one denies it, I believe," exclaimed Fred. "I only made a
supposition. Some men dislike to be seen in cities, while others would
go mad if obliged to live on the plains. I sometimes think that it
depends entirely upon the conscience which every man is supposed to have
locked within his breast, although my arguments are liable to be
refuted, on the ground that there are some men destitute of such an
article."

"Death and the devil! do you refer to me, you babbler?" shouted the
stranger, his hands again seeking the pockets where his pistols were
nestling.

"Don't get enraged at a few words," I said, half soothingly and half
ironically. "My friend didn't mean to cut you with his remarks."

"We won't quarrel over an unmeaning word," I said. "Give me a quart of
good whiskey, and I will go back to the tent where I have agreed to stop
for the balance of the night. I was told that I could get the best
liquor here of any place in Ballarat."

"Raising cattle is considered a profitable business in Australia," I
hinted, while pretending to be attending upon his wants.

"I find it satisfactory," he returned, shortly, as though determined to
baffle my inquiries.

"I have some thoughts of engaging in the business," I continued, "and
would, if I could buy a tract of land on the banks of the Loddon or the
Campaspe. All the pasturing that is desirable within sight of Mount
Macedon skirt is already sold, I suppose."

"I should thin