3o8 CONFESSIONS OF A BEACHCOMBER 



He look out all time. Bi'mby, longa morning he alto- 

 gether yan. He looked out 'nother fella yamber (camp). 

 Ole man plenty time bin yabba me debil-debil before long 

 time, bin catch 'em ole man ole woman. He no more see 

 'em. He find 'em little bit yetin (skin) longa yil-gil-gil 

 (lawyer vine). Ole man bin yabba some time debil-debil 

 'tching out like it big fella oor-bung-ah (big wind) first 

 time ; bi'mby tching out all asame youn-me bin hear 'em. 

 Black fella he no more see 'em nuthin. One time altogether 

 been see 'em like it sum-moke. He yan. Debil-debil come 

 up. Me no bin see 'em. Me bin hear 'em one time. Me 

 close up ar-tum-ena (baby)." 



Another boy gave quite a different personality to the 

 "debil-debil." "Big fella. All asame dead man. All 

 bone, no more meat." Eyes of fire were added as finishing 

 touches. 



Clothing Superfluous 



The parents of our domesticated blacks not only never 

 wore clothes, but hardly knew what clothes were. They 

 needed none for warmth. At anyrate, blankets or cloaks 

 beaten out of the inner bark of a particular fig-tree {Ficus 

 ehretioides) were the only covering they had. Not every 

 one possessed even a fig-tree blanket. During inclement 

 weather they squatted in their humpies, or braved the 

 elements "with honour clad." Thinking no evil, clothing 

 for decency's sake was superfluous. Clothes are worn at the 

 present day, partly as a concession to the fastidiousness of 

 the whites, and largely from vanity. Our blacks are 

 exceedingly fond of dress ; the more glaring and clashing 

 the colours the greater the joy of possession. 



The party go off in the shimmer of Sunday's finery, 

 and just out of sight all will be discarded and " planted," 

 for the favourite costume for the walk-about is that of the 

 previous generation. Having spent the whole day in bliss- 

 ful innocence of clothes, they return in the evening in their 

 gaudy attire, fresh as from a comic garden-party. 



