His Colonial Oath by Henry Lawson — Read

I lately met an old schoolmate of mine up-country. He was much changed. He was tall and lank, and had the most hideous bristly red beard I ever saw. He was working on his father's farm. He shook hands, looked anywhere but in my face -- and said nothing. Presently I remarked at a venture "So poor old Mr B., the schoolmaster, is dead."

"My oath! " he replied.