The contractor hesitated.  “Whose planks are they?” he asked.

“I don’t know whose they are, and I don’t care,” replied Jack.  “Say the word, and you can have them, if you like.”

The contractor made no reply, at least in words, to this generous offer.  It is not every man that has a friend like Jack; many men will steal from you, but very few will steal for you, and when such a one is found he deserves his reward.

We adjourned to the bar parlour, and Jack had a glass of brandy, for which he did not pay.  There was among the company a man from Adelaide, a learned mineralogist, who commenced a dissertation on the origin of gold.  He was most insufferable; would talk about nothing but science.  Darwin wrote a book about “The Origin of Species,” and it has been observed that the origin of species is precisely what is not in the book.  So we argued about the origin of gold, but we could get nowhere near it.

When the rest of the company had retired, Jack observed to me:  “You put down that Adelaide chap gradely; he had not a leg to stand on.”

I was pleased to find that Jack knew a good argument when he heard it, so I rewarded his intelligence with another glass of brandy, and asked him if he had been long in the colonies.  He said: 

“My name’s not Jack; that’s what they call me, but it doesn’t matter what my name is.  I was brought up in Liverpool, but I wasn’t born there; that doesn’t matter either.  I used to work at the docks, was living quite respectable, was married and had a little son about five years old.  One night after I had had supper and washed myself, I said to th’ missus, ‘There’s a peep-show i’ Tithebarn Street, and if you’ll wash Bobby’s face I’ll tek him there; its nobbut a penny.’  You know it was one o’ them shows where they hev pictures behind a piece o’ calico, Paul Pry with his umbrella, Daniel i’ th’ lions’ den, ducks swimming across a river, a giantess who was a man shaved and dressed in women’s clothes, a dog wi’ five legs, and a stuffed mermaid—­just what little lads would like.  There was a man, besides, who played on a flute, and another singing funny songs.  When I went outside into the street there was little Billy Yates, as used to play with Bobby, so I says, ’Come along, Billy, and I’ll tek thee to the show.’  When we got there we set down on a bench, and, just as they began to show th’ pictures, three black-fellows came in and set down on th’ bench before us.  They thowt they were big swells, and had on black coats, white shirts, stiff collars up to their ears, red and green neck-handkerchers, and bell-topper hats; so I just touched one of em on th’ showder and said:  ’Would you please tek your hats off to let th’ lads see th’ pictures?’ Well, the nigger just turned his head half-round, and looked at me impudent like, but he kept his hat on.  So I asked him again quite civil, and he called me a low fellow, towld me to mind my own business, and