Feelings, however vented in the shouting of 'Joe,' did certainly
not prepare the Eureka boys to submit with patience to a licence-hunt
in the course of the day.
First and foremost: it is impossible to prevent the sale of spirits
on the diggings; and not any laws, fines, or punishment the government
may impose on the dealers or consumers can have an effect towards putting
a stop to sly-grog selling. A miner working, as during the past winter,
in wet and cold, must and will have his nobbler occasionally; and very
necessary, too, I think. No matter what the cost, he will have it;
and it cannot be dispensed with, if he wish to preserve his health: he won't
go to the Charley Napier Hotel, when he can get his nobbler near-handy,
and thereby give a lift to Pat or Scotty.
Secondly: I hereby assert that the breed of spies in this colony prospered
by this sly-grog selling. "We want money," says some of the 'paternals'
at Toorak.
"Oh! well, then," replies another at Ballaarat, "come down on a few
storekeepers and unlicensed miners and raise the wind. We can manage a
thousand or two that way. Let the blood-hounds on the scent, and it is done."
And so a scoundrel, in the disguise of an honest man, takes with him
another worse devil than himself, and goes round like a roaring lion,
seeking what he may devour.
