"'
'Have you nothing new or startling?'
He shook his head.
'No kind of show? Dog show? Snake charmer?'
'Slavin has a monopoly of the snakes.'
Then he added hesitatingly, 'There was an old Punch-and-Judy chap here
last year, but he died. Whisky again.'
'What happened to his show?'
'The Black Rock Hotel man took it for board and whisky bill. He has it
still, I suppose.'
I did not much relish the business; but I hated to see him beaten, so
I ventured, 'I have run a Punch and Judy in an amateur way at the
'Varsity.'
He sprang to his feet with a yell.
'You have! you mean to say it? We've got them! We've beaten them!' He
had an extraordinary way of taking your help for granted. 'The miner
chaps, mostly English and Welsh, went mad over the poor old showman, and
made him so wealthy that in sheer gratitude he drank himself to death.'
He walked up and down in high excitement and in such evident delight
that I felt pledged to my best effort.
'Well,' I said, 'first the poster. We must beat them in that.
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