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he three several times broke a leg, and whilst confined to barracks by the third casualty, he advertised in the newspapers " that during his illness he had retained M r . Barry, the Barrister, to advise generally on titles of property and peruse drafts on matters connected with conveyancing." S o m e time afterwards, entering into partnership with T h o m a s Clark, they carried on business for several years. Clark was a full-faced comfortable-looking m a n , and was known as " lame Tom," through a deformity of one of his feet, which reduced his locomotion to a ponderous sort of half-hop, effected by the aid of a huge stick. M e e k was married and Clark was not, but they were alike light-hearted, jovial individuals. M e e k died in a few years, whilst the extraordinary fate was reserved for " T o m " of falling into a religious mania, resulting in his detention in a Queensland lunatic asylum, where he remained for m a n y years, immersed in a living tomb, as utterly forgotten in Melbourne as if he never had existence there, and not taking his exit from the world until 1882. H. N. CARRINGTON, a diminutive, sallowish-faced Manxman, came from Sydney in 1839, as Clerk of the Crown to the Court of Quarter Sessions, and for some months conducted the criminal prosecutions tried there in a manner that gave only mixed satisfaction. H e was about the most bumptious and bounceable of talking animals, and used to " row" the Police Court Magistrates in a style worth listening to. W h e n the Supreme Court got into working order he joined a business with F. L. Clay, a partner of m u c h more conscience and moderation, but they did not get on long together. Carrington, had he minded himself, had the ball before him, and, with reasonable skill and caution, he might have kicked it to the goal of a large fortune. But he was reputed to be professionally most unscrupulous, and given to land and bill-discounting speculations. Complications more than professional were alleged to have arisen between him and some of his clients, from which extrication was not easy. H e was never out of trouble with Judge Willis, w h o always thought that Carrington was preparing for some iniquity whenever his n a m e appeared to any case in Court. Willis more than once denounced him as a filer of sham pleas, and not only attacked but struck him off the Court Roll of Practitioners. Still there was a deal of game in him, and he bravely fought the brow-beating Judge inch by inch until he conquered him on an appeal to the Full Court at Sydney. In 1842, Carrington m a d e an effort to get returned for Bourke W a r d at thefirstT o w n Council Election; but pecuniary embarrassments were so besetting that he was compelled to withdraw from the contest, though nominated as a candidate. In February, 1843, he had no alternative than to throw up the sponge, for the Philistines were so close on him, that nothing could save him unless showing them his heels. H e was in the Rules (a limited area of West Melbourne proclaimed as a Debtors' prison) at the time, and breaking through their boundaries, donned lady's apparel, and got away from town in the mail-cart which carried the mail overland to Sydney. W h e n twenty miles from Melbourne, he resumed his proper manly attire, and effected a safe retreat. T h e actual detaining creditors had only recovered for a small amount, and this was said to have been paid by the bolter's sureties. In the course of 1844, long after his unrelenting foe (Willis) had left the colony, Carrington returned to Melbourne, ultimately going back to Sydney, and he died at Windsor, N e w South Wales, on the 16th May, 1845, at the early age of thirty-nine years. Q U A R R Y A N D R O S S were for a time in partnership. Similar, so far as both being tall men, they presented m a n y opposites, for Quarry was a lanky, pale-faced, black-haired Irishman ; and Ross a red-visaged, stern-looking, dark-haired Scot. Quarry hailed from a town in the County of Cork, named Mallow, so proverbial for its " Rakes," w h o are immortalized in a well-known Irish song; and, so far, he did not belie his place of paternity, for there was a strong dash of rakishness in his disposition. H e dressed in tip-top style, a shining bell-topper, swallow-tailed, gilt-buttoned blue cloth coat, long white vest, and black cloth or white drilled trousers, strapped under high-heeled, well-polished Wellington boots. His tie and shirt fronts were only equalled by those sported by Barry, the Barrister. Partial to riding astride on an undersized nag with his toes nearly touching the ground, "Long Quarry" used to be one of the most remarkable ambling sights of Collins Street. H e married a pretty girl, but on her part the alliance was no love match, and poor Quarry's connubial