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42 suffered more or less. Every exposed portion of the body became the ground of contest; and although hundreds of mosquitoes were crushed, it was a hopeless case to expect to end the persecution, as thousands appeared in their room.

"I'll tell you what, passengers," said the captain, "if you scratch and bang yourselves about as you're doing, you'll spile your beauty. As for you, young man," turning to Mr. Weevel, "your mother would hardly know you as it is."

"Ah," whined Weevel, "she little thinks how confoundedly her Augustus is taken in, and will soon be done for.—Ah!" this exclamation was accompanied by a sound slap on the cheek administered by himself, in a futile effort to annihilate one of the pests: if some one else had slapped Mr. Weevel's face he could scarcely have exclaimed more passionately, "that I should ever have subjected myself to this!"

The "Leviathan" was again moving through the water steadily, for a breeze had sprung up, and the only sail she could boast was set to catch it as it sighed through the tall tea-tree scrubs which lined the river's banks.

"Is all the country like this?" said Weevel, in a desponding tone.

"Oh! no:—some's like that," replied the captain, as he pointed to a swamp which could just be distinguished through the scrub.—"D'ye like it better, lad?" said the skipper with a grin.

Mr. Weevel regarded the prospect for a moment, and then sunk his head in utter despair.

"He's a nice fellow to come to a new country," whispered Slinger, "a few mosquitoes, a scrub, and a swamp have broken his spirit—that is, if he ever had one."

The mosquitoes became more blood-thirsty that ever. Poor Weevel was endeavouring to wrap his face in a highly scented