conformed to no rule of the road, and maintained a headlong pace implying
a great contempt for horseflesh, and no more respect for their own limbs
than for the neck of the merest stranger. From the bars, which were
frequent, came a babel of laughter and shouting. To the 'Pea-souper'
every thing was new and wonderful.

A squalid aboriginal swathed in an old tablecloth fresh from some
breakfast started from a corner, pointing a long, dirty finger at Done,
and grinning a wide grin.

'Yah! dam new chum!' he said. Then he laughed as only an Australian black
can, with a glitter of seemingly endless white teeth, and a strident roar
that might have been heard a mile off.

'New chum!' This appellation had been thrown at Done a dozen times.

'Pea-souper!' trumpeted a horseman through his hands. There were
sarcastic references to 'limejuice,' and Jim was asked by several
strangers, with a show of much concern, if his mother knew he was out.
'Does your mother know you're out?' was then a new and popular street
gag, and the query implied a childlike incapability of taking care of
himself on the part of the person addressed, and was generally accepted
as a choice piece of humour. Jim heard so many references to the 'new
chum's bundle' that he was presently satisfied he owed all these
unpleasant little attentions to the burden he carried, and he determined
to rid himself of it at the first opportunity. Turning into Bourke
Street, he eventually found a hotel where there was comparative peace.
Entering, he called for a drink.

'New chum?' queried the barman, after serving him.