Proud of his personal appearance, George shaved regularly once a week, borrowing a mirror to assist in the operation. He was wont to apply the lather from pungent kerosene soap with a discarded tooth-brush which he had picked up. Long use had thinned the bristles woefully, but the brush was used faithfully and with grave deliberation. One morning he came and said--"Boss, you got any more brush belonga shaving? This fella close up lose 'em whisker altogether." The sensational episodes of his trooper days provided George with unending themes. He gave an account to a friend of the suppression of a black rogue, a faithful report of which is presented as an example of unbowdlerised pidgin English. George--"You bin hear about Mr Limsee have fight? My word, he fight proper; close up killed. We three fella ride about. Cap'n--big strong boy that--me and Mr Limsee. Wild boy--boy from outside; Myall--beggar that fella--longa gully. Hit Mr Limsee. He bin have long fella stick, like that one Tom take a longa fight--short handle. Heavy fella that--carn lif 'em easy, one hand. Mr Limsee tumbledown. Get up. That boy kill 'em one time more hard. My word, strong fella boy that. Catch 'em Mr Limsee-- tchuk longa ground, hard fella--like that. Me and Cap'n come. Mr Limsee alonga ground yet--'Hello! Mr Limsee, you bin hurt?' 'Yes, my boy I hurt plenty. Not much; only little bit. That fella boy hit me alonga sword. You catch that fella. Hold 'em.' Me and Cap'n say--'You no run away, you boy.' 'Me no fright.' He have 'em spear. Me tell 'em--'You no runaway. Me catch you.' He say--'Me no fright, you fella.' Me say --'You no runaway. I shoot you.' He say all a time--'Me no fright. Me fight you.' Me say--'You fool, you carn fight alonga this fella bullet. He catch you blurry quick.' That fella stop one place. We two fella go up alongside. Cap'n he say--'Hold up your hand. Le' me look your hand?' He hold up hand. Quick we put 'em han'cup. That fella no savee han'cup before. He bin sing out loud--loud like anything. We two fella laugh plenty. Mr Limsee tie 'em up hand longa tree, and belt him proper. Belt him plenty longa whip. My word, that fella sing out--sing out--sing out. Mr Limsee belt him more. All time he sing out. Bi'mby let 'em go. He bad fella boy that altogether. We fella--go home along camp. Mr Limsee feel 'em sore tchoulder. Nex' day that boy--very tchausey fella--come up along camp. He say--'Me want fight that fella Cap'n.' Cap'n come up. That fella catch 'em, Cap'n tchuk him hard alonga ground. Get up; tchuk him two time. Head go close up alonga stone. Two fella wrastle all about long time. Cap'n strong fella. That boy more strong. Knock 'em about like anything. Bi'mby come back he have spear--three wire spear--long handle. Tchuk 'em spear. Catch 'em Cap'n longa side--here. Wire come out nother side--here. He carn stay--tumble down. Good boy that; my mate long time. Some fella go alonga house tell 'em Mr Limsee--'That boy bin kill