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I inquired of Mr M'Swat which was the liveliest time of the year, and being told it was shearing and threshing, I opened one first in November: November 1896 1st. Fine. Started to muster sheap. 2nd. Fine. Counten sheap very dusty 20 short. 3rd. Fine. Started shering. Joe Harris cut his hand bad and wint hoam. 4th. Showery. Shering stoped on account of rane.
No gem ever flashed from a rosy ray to a white one more rapidly than changed the young wife's counten- ance whilst this word came from her in a long-drawn breath. "Did she walk along our turnpike-road?" she said, in a suddenly restless and eager voice. "I believe she did.... Ma'am, shall I call Liddy? You bain't well, ma'am, surely? You look like a lily so pale and fainty!"
"Whoop-ee!" he gave a sudden yell, at the same time springing into the air and striking his heels twice together in a wild dance of joy. "Whoop-ee!" he yelled again. "Git hit, 'n' let's begin! Git hit, I say!" "Dale!" she cried in consternation, drawing back from him. "Are you mad?" "Bob said ye couldn't teach 'counten yo' haid," he breathlessly continued, his face glowing with excited pleasure.
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