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‘”Oi must be walkin’ or foightin’!–Oi must be walkin’ or foightin’!–Oi must be walkin’ or foightin’!”

‘They say that he wanted to eat his Australian relatives before he was done; and the story goes that one night, while he was on the spree, they put their belongings into a cart and took to the Bush.

‘There’s no floury record for several years; then the Flour turned up on the west coast of New Zealand and was never very far from a pub. kept by a cousin (that he had tracked, unearthed, or discovered somehow) at a place called “Th’ Canary”. I remember the first time I saw the Flour.

‘I was on a bit of a spree myself, at Th’ Canary, and one evening I was standing outside Brady’s (the Flour’s cousin’s place) with Tom Lyons and Dinny Murphy, when I saw a big man coming across the flat with a swag on his back.

‘”B’ God, there’s the Flour o’ Wheat comin’ this minute,” says Dinny Murphy to Tom, “an’ no one else.”

‘”B’ God, ye’re right!” says Tom.

‘There were a lot of new chums in the big room at the back, drinking and dancing and singing, and Tom says to Dinny–

‘”Dinny, I’ll bet you a quid an’ the Flour’ll run against some of those new chums before he’s an hour on the spot.”

‘But Dinny wouldn’t take him up. He knew the Flour.

‘”Good day, Tom! Good day, Dinny!”

‘”Good day to you, Flour!”

‘I was introduced.

‘”Well, boys, come along,” says the Flour.

‘And so we went inside with him. The Flour had a few drinks, and then he went into the back-room where the new chums were. One of them was dancing a jig, and so the Flour stood up in front of him and commenced to dance too. And presently the new chum made a step that didn’t please the Flour, so he hit him between the eyes, and knocked him down–fair an’ flat on his back.

‘”Take that,” he says. “Take that, me lovely whipper-snapper, an’ lay there! You can’t dance. How dare ye stand up in front of me face to dance when ye can’t dance?”

‘He shouted, and drank, and gambled, and danced, and sang, and fought the new chums all night, and in the morning he said–

‘”Well, boys, we had a grand time last night. Come and have a drink with me.”

‘And of course they went in and had a drink with him.

*****

‘Next morning the Flour was walking along the street, when he met a drunken, disreputable old hag, known among the boys as the “Nipper”.

‘”Good MORNING, me lovely Flour o’ Wheat!” says she.

‘”Good MORNING, me lovely Nipper!” says the Flour.

‘And with that she outs with a bottle she had in her dress, and smashed him across the face with it. Broke the bottle to smithereens!

‘A policeman saw her do it, and took her up; and they had the Flour as a witness, whether he liked it or not. And a lovely sight he looked, with his face all done up in bloody bandages, and only one damaged eye and a corner of his mouth on duty.

‘”It’s nothing at all, your Honour,” he said to the S.M.; “only a pin-scratch–it’s nothing at all. Let it pass. I had no right to speak to the lovely woman at all.”

‘But they didn’t let it pass,–they fined her a quid.

‘And the Flour paid the fine.

‘But, alas for human nature! It was pretty much the same even in those days, and amongst those men, as it is now. A man couldn’t do a woman a good turn without the dirty-minded blackguards taking it for granted there was something between them. It was a great joke amongst the boys who knew the Flour, and who also knew the Nipper; but as it was carried too far in some quarters, it got to be no joke to the Flour–nor to those who laughed too loud or grinned too long.

*****

‘The Flour’s cousin thought he was a sharp man. The Flour got “stiff”. He hadn’t any money, and his credit had run out, so he went and got a blank summons from one of the police he knew. He pretended that he wanted to frighten a man who owed him some money. Then he filled it up and took it to his cousin.