An interesting Train trip by the WORKER man

*THE WORKER*

Brisbane, February 9, 1895.

Interview with the Hon. Tommy Byrnes.

The day after the publication of our interview with Mr. Tozer, a Government emissary, with a face of the Pigott type, found his way into the WORKER office, and wanted to shout for the staff. We half anticipated his mission, but allowed him his own time. After a while he casually inquired, “Who did our interviews?” Our interviewer in his sanctum over hearing the conversation, sprang upon the scene with a bound. He and the emissary subsequently left the office arm in arm. Some hours afterwards the WORKER man returned somewhat hilarious, and announced the fact that he had received an invitation to accompany the Attorney General on a Ministerial tour to the West.

His version of the trip is here appended.

* * *

At 10 a.m. punctually Mr. Byrne's carriage drove up to the door of the WORKER office, with two accoutred flunkeys aboard. Wishing to let the public see I was “well connected,” I instructed the coachman to first drive up Queen street, but the servile flunkeys had evidently received prior instructions from their “owner,” for they drove me round through all the back lanes and byways imaginable. Ultimately we arrived at the railway station, where a special train was waiting to convey the Ministerial party westwards.

Mr. Byrnes effusively welcomed the WORKER man, and introduced him to his party as the representative of the Telegraph. At the same time slyly winking at the scribe, who grasped the situation.

I was heartily received by Nelson, Philp and Barlow who assured me they regularly read the funny bits in the Telegraph. Barlow proceeded to relate a virtuous little “story” about Mrs. Partington, which appeared some time ago in the Rev. Woolnough's paper, but Byrnes, observing my blushes, and fearing that I should indignantly disclose my identity, suggested that I should inspect the hampers provided for the tour.

We walked to the end of the train, where I saw with glad surprise one 7 ton truck full of luxuries. There were ten cases of Pomery and Greno, 5 cases invalid port, 5 cases sherry, 5 cases claret, 10 cases Hennessy's three-star brandy, 10 cases Usher's special reserve whiskey, 10 cases Walker's whiskey, 10 cases Brown's four crown divto, 1 quart water, 1 dozen cooked English hams, 6 dozen roast fowl, 6 dozen pigeons, a quantity of bread, 10 dozen cases of grapes, pineapples and other fruities; one portable electric fan, and one ice-chest; also several cases of eatables which Mr. Byrnes did not trouble to detail.

* * *

While we were examining the comestibles, a procession of five hundred unemployed, on whose throats the hand of starvation was gripped, made its way along a street near at hand. Said Byrnes to me: “Hello ! There goes a pack of loafing scoundrels. Now, look here ! I've no patience with these kind of men, It makes my blood boil to see strong, active men like these prefer to beg rather than to work. Pardon me a minute, “he said, the indignation mounting his face, “I must have them immediately dispersed,” whereupon he whispered something to a policeman standing on the platform, and ten minutes afterwards the procession came flying back pursued by a body of mounted police. The Ministerial party observing the rout, were carried away with enthusiasm, and on John M'Master calling for three cheers for law and order, the station buildings rang again and again, “It was a glorious victory.”

* * *

Mr. Byrnes then pressed me to sample the Pomery, which I found in every respect equal to that supplied by the Hon. Tozer.

“I hope you will give me a good notice in the WORKER next week,” said Tommy, “I wish to keep in touch with the masses. You know, I have a deal of sympathy with the people you represent. Don't mind my saying in the House the WORKER disgraces the honoured name of worker. That is mere talk, necessary to the existences of debate. Like my great prototype, Sir Samuel Griffith. I love the working classes, and I desire to keep sweet with them. You know (whispering), many of them have votes, and those who haven't can do you some harm if they take it in their heads.”

* * *

Hereupon the train began to move, and the WORKER man, propping himself safely in a corner, scanned the motley crew, and especially the Attorney General. Byrnes is a terribly vain man. If I gave his personal description he would not be flattered. There's neither shape nor make about him. To see him endeavouring to walk in a dignified manner to Parliament House his back reminds one of a bag of chaff with a walking coat drawn over it, his head like a round ball of black pudding surmounted with a bard-hitter, and his legs like two German sausages. If appearance goes for anything, Tom Byrnes was intended by nature for a dime museum.

* * *

The carriage contained a good many representative Parliamentarians, the leanest of whom must have weighed 13 stone. The brewing interest was also represented, to say nothing of the new theology. Before we had gone a mile most of the company found they had an important engagement at the refreshment end of the car, where the clinking of wine glasses and the clacking of bursting champagne bottles made merry music. At Ipswich a fresh supply of champagne had to be obtained. The water, however remained untouched. Here an unforeseen delay occurred. Battersby and Paddy Perkins were missing. It was said they had gone together for a walk round the town, and it was suggested they had been inveigled into some cul-de-sac by the members of the Ipswich Labour League. The suggestion found much support, and great indignation was expressed. The labour member for Ipswich appearing on the platform was greeted with Ministerial cries of “Shame! Shame !” in the midst of which the two missing gentlemen emerged from the refreshment bar, where they had been quietly enjoying a ham sandwich and a cup of cold water.

* * *

Crossing the Main range the scenery was sublime. As far away back as the eye could reach the golden heads of empty champagne bottles gleamed in the afternoon sun and contrasted with the tender pinks on the cheeks of the travelling Fat Men.

The tender pathos of the scene was not without its effect upon us all. A yearning desire for sympathy made itself felt in subtle ways amongst us – a desire to out pour into willing ears the innermost thoughts of one's very soul. Under this influence the attorney General again approached the WORKER man.

“The only truthful things Tozer said in his interview were that I had ability and that I aspired to the Premiership,” said Byrnes. I confess I have that ambition, and if ever I get the chance of forming a Ministry you'll see what I'll do.”

“You don't like Tozer?” said the WORKER man.

“Like him? I hate the humbug. He wants to be Premier himself, but he's got Buckley's show. Now you take it from me I have the greatest difficulty in getting along with him at cabinet meetings. You know when M'Ilwraith used to be present he used to be as mute and as servile as a senior-sergeant. Sir Thomas used to treat him like a dog, but now that M'Ilwraith is away there is no holding him. He actually has the audacity to question my opinions – MY OPINIONS!”

“And Barlow! What of him?”

“Well Barlow is the Orange representative in the cabinet as I am the Catholic, so you may depend we watch each other like cat and mouse, and there's precious little love lost between us. I'm glad to see you don't care for him. Keep at him! Set him every time. Give him the two-faced cartoon. That's the one he doesn't like. Lord! How we smile when Barlow takes the WORKER into his office, and tears it to shreds when anything appears concerning himself.”

“Nelson?”

“Oh! He's a silly old man. He would rather be out of the show; in fact he will be out soon unless he's more careful. He's a bit of a teetotaller, and I am afraid it don't agree with him. Watch him as we travel out west.” “You still incline to a political career, Tommy,” said the WORKER man, commencing to mellow under the influence.

“Well I should like both the political and the literary. There's no reason why I should not emulate Gladstone? You saw that the Review of Review said if I were not a lawyer and a politician I might easily win fame by enlarging the bounds of Australian literature? That was in connection with my paper on James Brunton Stephens, Excuse me!”

Byrnes rushed to Nelson and Paddy Perkins, who were at the provisions, “Steady there Nelson, we're getting near Toowoomba town.” “You be d-----d,” was Paddy's response.

* * *

Returning to the WORKER man Byrnes said; “That was a fine criticism I wrote. And didn't I read the quotation well. You should have heard me give that verse from 'Convict Once'”

Free again! Free again! Eastward and westward,

before me, behind me.

Wide lies Australia and free are my feet as my

soul is to roam.

Oh, joy unwanted of space undetermined. No limit

assigned me.

Freedom conditioned by nought, save the need

and desire of a home!

“Ah, he's a grand post, Stephens.”

“Do you ever write any yourself . Tommy?”

“Sometimes, “ said Byrnes, “Here's a few lines I wrote. Don't put them in the WORKER, please.”

(The WORKER man read the lines, and sent them to the editor anonymously. They were promptly suppressed as breathing a dangerous spirit of discontent. It was an Irish patriotic song calling on the oppressed people to rise and hurl the tyrants into the sea. They also contained reference to his bleeding country Erin-go Bragh, Faugh-a-ballagh, Killaloe, Gra Macree Ma Cruiskeen, &c., &c.)

* * *

By this time the train had travelled some distance, and the provisions were commencing to tell on the passengers. The capers of the Premier were indescribably funny, although at the same time somewhat disconcerting. The gay old man had divested himself of his town clothes, and put on a suit of pyjamas. With this rig on he crawled out on to the roof of the train where he swayed to and fro singing -

Pour out the Rhine wine, let it flow

Like a free and bounding river

Till sadness sinks and every woe

L'es drowned beneath its waves for ever.

There's nought to cheer the hearts that pine

Like a deep, deep draught of the good Rhine wine,

Like a deep, deep draught of the good Rhine wine.

* * *

All the efforts of the members of the party were absolutely unavailing as far as getting the old teetotaller to come in off the roof. Then to make matters worse Paddy Perkins stepped off the train, and positively declined to get on board again. A Cabinet meeting was held, and it was decided to leave the hon. Gentleman well provided for, and pick him up on the return journey.

* * *

When we arrived at Bungeworgorai station a crowd of spectators insisted on a speech. The Premier stepped forward in his pyjamas, Byrnes said, “Ladies and gentlemen.” Tozer insisted on his right to talk. While Tozer and Byrnes were disputing, Thargomindah Leahy, with a face like the rising sun, stuck his head out of the car, and said, “Min, oi come from the ould sod. Oill iddress ye. Oi ----” Leahy was pulled in by someone, and Matt Battersby commenced to gesticulate from the platform of another car. His remarks were inaudible. Barlow having induced the Premier to “go inside,” stepped to the front, and said, “It is with considerable pain _____

“That will do, Two-face,” roared a man in the crowd; and the crowd laughed.

Barlow commenced to sob, and retired, giving way to Jack Hamilton, who confined his remarks to the ladies.

“Woman, lovely woman!” said Jack.

“Hear, hear,” said the crowd.

“Woman, lovely woman!” repeated Jack, now addressing his remarks chiefly to a dark eyed damsel at the edge of the crowd. “Where would men be without you.”

“Oh! Hang it, give us the policy of the Government,” houted an old greybeard, whose days of admiration for the fair sex had long since passed away.

“They ain't got none,” interjected another.

“Ladies! if I'm to be interrupted in this fashion, I'm going to shoot,” angrily replied Hamilton, brandishing a revolver.

The ladies present screamed, and fled, followed by the men, thus abruptly terminating what was an interesting break in the journey.

* * *

Barlow induced the railway guard to leave at once, which he did, his whistle being accompanied by the sound of Hamilton's revolver fired at some imaginary foe in the heavens.

The party resumed operations, which were diversified by M'Master's rendering of “We're all Brittoners,” and an imitation rainbow ballet by Crombie, Groom, Morehead, and Philp.

Byrnes resumed his WORKER interview.

“I don't half like this business, WORKER.

These men ought to be more circumspect; but they are under the impression you represent the Telegraph, and that they are all right?”

“You are opposed to Socialism, Tommy.” said the WORKER. “How is that?”

“I recognise the weight of many of the Socialistic arguments, but it doesn't pay me to fall in with you just yet.”

“The Pope has altered his opinions concerning Socialism, you know,” said the scribe.

“Not altogether,” replied Byrnes. “Anyway, I can't see my way to go with you the whole distance yet.”

“You went part of the way with us when you were educated at a State school,” said WORKER.

Byrnes ignored the remark.

“And you believe in Home Rule for Ireland and Coercion for Queensland.”

No reply.

“And you drafted the shout-to-kill manifesto, did you not?” said WORKER, reddening with excitement.

“Yes, yes, I know,” said Byrnes, “I know all that. But you don't understand, Tozer was willing to father the dirty work, and it was necessary to comply with the wishes of the pastoralists and money-lenders.”

“By the way, you were in the milk business once, were you not?” continued the WORKER man, determined to “jar” the lazy Attorney-General.

Byrnes face flushed as he pretended to rush away to the assistance of M'Master, who had been knocked over by a champagne bottle which had fallen accidentally from a basket and which was pommelling the hon. Member to death in a corner of the carriage. Several other members of the party also rushed to the assistance of the member for the Valley. The champagne bottle was dragged from his prostrate body and led away amid Ministerial cries of “Shame!”

* * *

[ The WORKER scribe was approached at the next station by a railway guard who asked him for his invitation ticket. He referred the guard to Mr. Byrnes who said he knew nothing of the scribe – never saw him before in his life. The scribe was then immediately dragged out of the train. He was therefore unable to chronicle further the doings of the festive Ministers.]