Writing of mess-rooms recalls to my memory an occurrence which took place at Maryborough where there was an old waiter named Tom, who was very fond of liquor, and generally, before dinner was over, was so drunk he could not bring the coffee in. One of the officers undertook to find out where he got his liquor from, and he soon ascertained that when any officer called for a bottle of wine, Tom used to decant it and leave a third of the wine in the bottom of the bottle, so he devised a cure for this state of things. One night, just as Tom had decanted the wine, I ordered him to go quickly and get something from the kitchen, and whilst he was away, I jumped up and put a good strong emetic in the bottle, having previously mixed the emetic in some wine; I gave the bottle a shake and put it down. The next minute Tom returned to the mess-tent, took up the bottle, and marched off with it. He was watched when he left the tent, and was seen with the neck of the bottle to his mouth, drinking the contents; not long after we heard Tom roaring at the top of his voice, very ill. Of course we had quarrels amongst the officers, and some ludicrous scenes took place. One night I had been dining out, and returned about ten o'clock. On seeing a light, I went into the Warden's tent. The Warden was not in, but the gold-receiver was sitting on the bed. I said-- "What is the matter? You are as white as a sheet." He replied, "I have sent to the police magistrate to ask him to fight a duel with me in the morning." I said, "Why, what has he been doing to you?" "He has insulted me," he said, "in the most gross manner." "Well," I said, "you need not look so frightened over it." The owner of the tent soon afterwards entered, looking very serious, and said, "I conveyed your message to H., and he says he will see you d--d first before he fights you!" He jumped from the bed, and became most courageous, and said, "I knew he was a coward, and I would have given anything to have had a shot at him." Nothing more came of the matter!