the other two niggers grinned.  Well, you know, I could not stand that.  I knew well enough what they were.  They were stewards on the liners running between New York and Liverpool, and they were going round trying to pass for swells in a penny peep-show.  I didn’t want to make a row just then and spoil the show, so I said to th’ lads, we mun go hooum, and I took ’em hooum, and then come back to th’ show and waited at th’ door.  When the niggers come out I pitched into th’ one as had given me cheek; but we couldn’t have it out for th’ crowd, and we were all shoved into th’ street.  I went away a bit, thinking no more about it, and met a man I knew and we went into a public house and had a quart o’ fourpenny.  We were in a room by ourselves, when the varra same three niggers come in and stood a bit inside the door.  So I took my tumbler and threw it at th’ head of th’ man I wanted, and then went at him.  But I couldn’t lick him gradely because th’ landlord come in and stopped us; so after a while I went hooum.  Next morning I was going along Dale Street towards the docks to work, when who should I see but that varra same blackfellow:  it looked as if th’ devil was in it.  He was by hisself this time, coming along at th’ other side of th’ street.  So I crossed over and met him, and went close up to him and said, ‘Well, what have you to say for yoursel’ now?’ and I gav him a lick under th’ ear.  He fell down on th’ kerbstone and wouldn’t get up—­ turned sulky like.  There was soon a crowd about, and they tried to wakken him up; but he wouldn’t help hisself a bit—­just sulked and wouldn’t stir.  I don’t believe he’d ha’ died but for that, because I nobbut give him but one hit.  I thowt I’d better make mysel’ scarce for a while, so I left Liverpool and went to Preston.  Were you ever in Preston?” I said I was.  “Well then, you’ll remember Melling, the fish-monger, a varra big, fat man.  I worked for him for about six months, and then come back to Liverpool, thinking there’d be no more bother about the blackfellow.  But they took me up, and gev me fourteen year for it; and if it had been a white man I wouldn’t ha’ got more than twelve months, and I was sent out to Van Diemen’s Land and ruined for ever, just for nowt else but giving a chance lick to a blackfellow.  And now I hear they’re going to war wi’ Russia, and—­ England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales—­I hope they’ll all get blooming well licked.  It don’t mend a man much to transport him, nor a woman either for that matter:  they all grow worse than ever.  When I got my ticket I sometimes went working in th’ bush, sometimes whaling and sealing, and sometimes stripping bark at Western Port and Portland Bay, before there was such a place as Melbourne.  I was in a whaler for two years about Wilson’s Promontory, until the whales were all killed or driven away.  I never saved any money until nine years back; we always went on th’ spree and spent every penny directly we were paid off.  At that time I went