Australian Tales - Setis

counthry as knows more nor I do about bush-work av all sorts, from
shepherdin to shingle-splittin, an from plaitin cabbage-tree sinnet to
makin whishky on the sly.”
“You must have been a very young man when you first came here,
Micky,” remarked Mr. Hopewell.
“I was, sir; an able young fella too; as sthrong as a cart-horse. Troth I'm
not very wake now for an old man, though I didn't allers take the best
care av meself. Still an all, I've seen many fellers put under ground who
were as able an as hearty as meself: be the same token, some av thim
didn't come to their end through fair play, worse luck. I've had no end
av'scapes from death afore to-day; but I'm as hard to kill as a native-dog.
Twice I was speared by the blacks; onst I was nigh drownded in a flood,
an another time close up roasted in a bush-fire; onst I was tossed by a
wild bullock; onst I was bitten by a shnake; an onst I tried to hang meself
wid me belt; but the sthrap broke just as I wor giving my last kick.”
“Dear me!” exclaimed Mr. Hopewell, with a shudder; “and had you
died then where would you be now?”
“Dear knows,” said Micky; “I niver thought much about it, sir. It would
a bin a settler wid me, that's all I know. I shouldn't ha drawn any more
rations, nor slops nayther, that's sartain. But bless yer heart, sir, I've
know'd lots av poor craters who have killed themselves to get out av their
misery; an ye wouldn't wonder at it nayther, if ye know'd all the misery
they'd got to bear, in one shape or another, that you wouldn't. Troth, I
could tell you yarns as wud make all yer hair stand up as stiff as spike
nails.”
“To get out of their misery, indeed!” exclaimed Mr. Hopewell,
solemnly. “Micky, hear me, my friend, and pray remember what I say,
for you told me just now, that you thought of shooting yourself to-day
when you picked up that pistol. I fear that fatal sin is sadly frequent in
the bush as well as in our cities. By such a frightful act a man certainly
plunges into the gulf of eternal misery. Of all sins self-murder is the most
horrible. It is utterly hopeless, for repentance is impossible. By such an
act man rushes unbidden into the awful presence of his offended Maker.
Oh, Micky! be thankful that you were spared from such a terrible crime,
and pray that you may be kept from another such attempt. But will you
tell me why you were led to such a sad act?”
“I will, sir,” said Micky; “though when I think av it it makes me shiver
an shake like a black-fellow on a frosty morning. Well, sir, it's many
years agone: I'd had a long job splittin posts an rails, an puttin up
stockyards, an other rough work, on a new station, far away backwards.
My mate, Jem Wedges, an I, had a pritty good sum av money comin to
us, an we wanted a bit av a spree, jist to knock some av it down; so we
goes to the Super one day, an axes him for an order for forty pounds, and
thin away we goes straight to the grog-shop at Guzzleton, which was