Page:While the Billy Boils, 1913.djvu/232

 'My oath!'

The conversation flagged here. But presently, to my great surprise, he came to the rescue with:

'He finished me, yer know.'

'Finished? How? Who?''

He looked down towards the river, thought (if he did think) and said: 'Finished me edyercation, yer know.'

'Oh! you mean Mr. B.?'

'My oath―he finished me first-rate.'

'He turned out a good many scholars, didn't he?'

'My oath! I'm thinkin' about going down to the trainin'-school,'

'You ought to―I would if I were you.'

'My oath!'

'Those were good old times,' I hazarded, 'you remember the old bark school?'

He looked away across the siding, and was evidently getting uneasy. He shifted about, and said:

'Well, I must be goin'.'

'I suppose you're pretty busy now?'

'My oath! So long.'

'Well, good-bye. We must have a yarn some day.'

'My oath!'

He got away as quickly as he could.

I wonder whether he was changed after all―or, was it I? A man does seem to get out of touch with the bush after living in cities for eight or ten years.