Western Mail, Thursday 16 March 1933, page 2
The only things that worried Blue on Gallipoli were chats. Before he enlisted he had carried his swag over most of Australia, and chats were not strangers to him. But he had never caught such big ones until he came to Anzac, One sunny day he was sitting on the beach holding up a pair of breeches to the light. He was glad only in his tunic and a battered hat. He examined his trousers with painstaking care, puffing laboriously at a dirty black pipe.
"How's hunting, Blue?"' asked Snow.
"Hullo, Snow!” he answered, without batting an eyelash. "I was just frisking meself to find out. Don't drop any of those crumbs about here. I don't want to encourage the cows too much." He had a trouser-leg wrong side out and was working energetically along the seam.
“You're certainly a fast worker," said Snow, watching the operation with an air of silent absorption for a few minutes.
"Yes," responded Blue, "as my old granddad used to say, there are only three things that are well done in a hurry - gettin' out o' fights, keepin' away from the police, and catchin' chats."
Snow met Blue some time later in France, and he was still at it. He told him that the French chats were not so big as the Gallipoli ones, but were harder to catch, as it was difficult to see them. The Aussie brand, he said, were the tamest of the three!