So in I goes, and sits down.

There was nobody there but one man, drunk under the bench.

And I has two noblers of brandy, and one of Old Tom; no, two Old Toms it was, and a brandy; when in comes an old chap as I knew for a lag in a minute.

Well, he and I cottoned together, and found out that we had been prisoners together five-and-twenty years agone.

And so I shouted for him, and he for me, and at last I says, 'Butty,' says I, 'who are these chaps round here on the lay' (meaning, Who are the bushrangers)?
And he says, 'Young 'uns--no one as we know.' And I says, 'Not likely, matey; I've been on the square this twenty year.' 'Same here,' says the old chap; 'give us your flipper.