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In the Roaring Fifties by Edward Dyson
page 61 of 330 (18%)

'I suppose I am,' replied Jim. 'Look here, would you mind telling me what
in the devil's name a new chum is?'

'A new chum is a man fresh from home.'

'From England?'

'Scotland, Ireland, anywhere else, if he's green and inexperienced.
Miners from the Californian fields don't rank as new chums.'

'And how am I known as a new chum?'

The barman grinned. 'That'll tell on you all over the place,' he said,
indicating the bag. 'That's a true new chum's bundle. No Australian would
expatriate himself by carrying his goods in that fashion. He makes them
up in a roll, straps them, and carries them in a sling on his back. His
bundle is then a swag. The swag is the Australian's national badge.'

'Well, I'm hanged if that isn't a little thing to make a row about. Do
you reckon it shameful to be a new chum, then?'

'Not exactly. No offence is intended; the men jeer out of mere harmless
devilment. The new churn's got so much to learn here, he can't help
looking a born fool as a general thing.'

'And pea-souper and lime-juicer?'

'They've been hazing you properly, mate. Pea-soupers and lime-juicers are
strangers off shipboard. They'd never have spotted you, though, without
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