‘I don’t take anything but tea myself,’ said Mr. Smith, ‘but to those who are used to it cool bitter beer goes well in any kind of weather. Anything is better than the confounded hard stuff.’ Mr. Neuchamp did not comprehend whether the latter deleterious compound was a solid or a liquid, but he was annoyed at drinking at the expense of a man unable to bear the cost, and who did not keep him company in the consumption of the liquor. ‘I wouldn’t have had anything but tea if I had known that was your tipple too,’ he said. ‘I’m not averse to Good Templarism in the desert, and can live on coffee as well as a Bedouin Arab. You must come to my place some day when I have one, and we’ll drink tea till all’s blue.’ ‘Very well,’ said Smith. ‘I’m passing Garrandilla—shall I say you’re coming along by degrees, and will be there some day?’ ‘Just so,’ said Ernest; ‘there’s no necessity for hurry. Tell Mr. Jedwood that, picking up colonial experience as I go along, I shall be there within a month.’ ‘Well, good-bye,’ said Mr. Smith; ‘I daresay we shall see each other again. Don’t you go and waste your money, mind that, and you’ll be a big squatter some day.’ ‘I don’t know about that,’ said Ernest; ‘I don’t so much want to make money, you know, as to do some good in the land.’ ‘That’s quite right,’ said Mr. Smith, grasping his hand with the hearty grip of the man of whole heart and strong will, ‘but you try and make some money first. People won’t believe in your opinions unless you show them that you can make money to begin with; after that you can say anything, and teach and preach as much as you like; and if you want to hold your own in any line you fancy, don’t you go and waste your money, as I said before. Good-bye.’ The horses had been brought round; Mr. Smith, rather inconsistently, gave the highly respectful groom half a crown after this economical homily, and mounting the roan horse touched the other with the bridle rein, and ambled off at the rate of six miles an hour. ‘Good-hearted fellow, Smith,’ said Mr. Neuchamp expressively to the landlord, who with a select part of the townspeople had paid Mr. Smith the compliment of assembling to see him off; ‘hope he’ll get on in the world; I feel sure he deserves it.’ ‘Get on in the world, sir!’ echoed the landlord, in tones of wild amaze; ‘who do you mean, sir?’ ‘Why, Mr. Smith, of course, the gentleman who has just ridden away,’ said Ernest, rather tartly. ‘He is a most economical but estimable and intelligent person, and I feel convinced that he will get on, and have a station of his own before many years.’