"
"You generally eat it raw?" Carew questioned blandly.
"Praised be Patrick, no; but it's Paddy who has done the cooking.
This year, I am free from my pots and kettles, and can eat with the
best of them. Little Canuck dear, don't ever enlist as a cook.
Nothing spoils the stomach of you like the smell of the warming
broth."
"You like the change, then, Paddy?" Weldon asked, as he thriftily
packed up his parcel and stowed it away in his pocket, with an eye
to the gratitude of Kruger Bobs.
"Like, is it? I rejoice greatly and shout, as the Book bids us. It's
a man's work I'm doing now; it's with men that I am doing that work,
and it's a man who leads me on to do that work, meaning Captain
Frazer."
"Where is the Captain now?"
Paddy dropped down on the ground, midway between his friends and his
ant-hill.
"Over yonder, doing the work of an honest man and a warrior."
"That goes without saying. What now?"
But Paddy chose to speak in metaphors.
"He's thrown down his sword and picked up his bottle," he responded
enigmatically.
"Not drinking?" Weldon asked incredulously.
"No, little one; not doing, but doing by. He's administering advice
and physic to them cormyrants of Queenslanders.
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