There was a well-known Attorney named D , who used to indulge in some extraordinary single-handed vagaries. A m e m b e r of a militia corps in England, whence he emigrated in 1838, he brought with him his military outfit, and when regularly on the " ree-raw" he would dress himself up in his regimentals and, armed cap-a-pie with his drawn sword brandished over his head, rush like a maniac through the streets, and if he met any notable person on his way, would compel him, irrespective of the state of the weather, to drop on his knees and beg his life. O n e wet night, when Collins Street was not only inches, but almost feet, in slush, this m a d m a n was in his tantrums, and one of the most precise and punctilious of Melbournians had the misfortune to cross his path. T h e scimitar was immediately flashing in the moonlight, while the holder of it grasped the other by the collar, and vowed instant decapitation unless he dropped on his marrow bones and begged his life. The condition, uncomfortable in every sense, was complied with, and the head so stipulated for was in after time the wearer of a judicial wig for many years in Victoria. There was one fast gentleman of the period w h o singularly enough afterwards attained high position in the Police Department, w h o never ventured abroad on any after-dark expedition without the companionship of a formidable stick ; and so that he might never be left alone in this respect, he appointed an old fellow named Austin M'Ginty his " Stick-in-Waiting," or cudgel-keeper. M'Ginty was caretaker at St. Patrick's Hall, a connection which, doubtless, specially fitted him to be the custodian of shillelaghs. However, he was the G r o o m of the Sticks, which were stabled under the Hall stairs, and he received a weekly stipend for keeping them in order. Three or four times a week, about midnight, a thundering knock would be rattled on the door, and a croaking voice from within would screech out " Who's there ?" to which would be m a d e the interrogative response, " Are you awake, Ginty ?" "Aye, aye, your Honor," would be crooned out; " W h a t do you want n o w ? " Whereupon the mandate would be thundered forth, " C o m e , jump up quick, man, and give m e a stick." Ginty would spring from his lair, and, opening the door, would produce two or three of the saplings in his charge, one of which would be speedily selected and marched off with. However, I never heard of any broken heads following, and the sticks were never k n o w n to do m u c h harm. At the Restoration a section of the London street bullies was known as " Nickers" (whether after Old Nick or not I cannot say), and their missiles were some of the least-valued coins of the realm. According to Gay in the Trivia— " His scatter'd pence the flying Nicker flings, A n d with the copper shower the casement rings,"
And the amusements of the Melbourne scampdom used to be diversified by the shying of coppers in the theatre and other places. O n the ioth January, 1845, an audacious exhibition of this kind occurred at noon-day in the heart of Collins Street. O n the site of the Union Bank then stood (he Royal Hotel, the resort of the sporting fraternity, and on the opposite side was the most fashionable draper's shop in town, known as Williamson's. Here there was a cheval glass, valued at £17, kept for the convenience of the numerous customers, and it attracted the drunken attention of half-a-dozen " Nickers," w h o procured a large supply of a mintage then in circulation, long since called i n — a species of heavy penny-piece. With this artillery, or rather rifle practice, afiringparty commenced across the street, which was kept up for some time, luckily without knocking out any eyes or cracking any skulls, though several squares of glass in the shop windows were destroyed, and the mirror shattered in pieces. A bet of a dozen of champagne was the prompter of the outrage, The leader of the exploit was a Mr. J. D. Hill, one of whose limbs was so enlarged by elephantiasis that he was known as " Montefeetio." H o w he managed to drag himself along was matter of surprise, but more so was the possibility of showing his heels with sufficient quickness out of several scrapes with which he was mixed up, and this he would contrive to do rapidly and cleverly too. In the present instance he cleared off at once out of town, and the Police Court proceedings, which old Charlie Williamson vowed he would take, were deferred until something could be known of " Montefeetio's " whereabouts. In the meantime the affair was compromised, like many other transactions of a kindred kind.
