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She educated herself, selected not without shrewdness and carefully put on an assortment of genteel airs, finally contrived to make a most creditable appearance was more aristocratic in tastes and in talk than the high mightiest of her relatives by marriage. But her son Fred was a Pinkey in character. In boyhood he was noted for his rough and low associates.
It seemed so long to wait for Pinkey to convey the tidings. Rufus arrived on Monday morning, and the "crew" to which he had referred proved to be members of his own family John and Will whales as to size, and clownish.
Chook, who had borrowed Jack Ryan's cart for the day, drove off with his load in triumph, while Pinkey went with Mother Jenkins to her shop in Bathurst Street to sort out her curtains, bed-linen, and crockery from that extraordinary collection. Twenty pounds would pay for the lot, and leave a few shillings over.
Why, that Pinkey could not speak a grammatical sentence and they hung on his every word, breathless. It was disgusting! Wallie picked up a pebble and pelted a robin. He wished the undertow would catch that Spenceley girl. If he should reach her when she was going down for the third time she would have to thank him for saving her and that would about kill her.
"I congratulate you," said Wallie, feeling himself magnanimous in view of the way his neck was hurting. "You needn't," replied Pinkey, good-naturedly. "He durned near 'got' me." "It was a very creditable ride indeed," insisted Wallie, in his most patronizing and priggish manner. He found it very hard to be generous, with Helene Spenceley listening.
"He wants to file on the 160 on Skull Crick that Boise Bill abandoned," said Pinkey. Tucker's gaze shifted. "I'm not sure it's open to entry," he replied, hesitatingly. "Yes, it is. His time was up a month ago, and he ain't even fenced it." "You know he's quarrelsome," Tucker suggested. "Perhaps it would be better to ask his intentions." "He ain't none," Pinkey declared, bluntly.
"I doubt if I could set one of them hen-skin saddles," observed Pinkey, changing the subject. Wallie replied airily: "Oh, it's very easy if you've been taught properly." "Taught? You mean," wonderingly, "that somebody learnt you to ride horseback?" Wallie smiled patronizingly: "How else would I know?" "I was jest throwed on a horse and told to stay there."
And suddenly she thought, with a pang of joy, that no longer would she need to nerve herself for the cruel journey to the markets in the morning. Chook would drive down in his own cart, and she would be waiting on his return with a good breakfast. They had gone up in the world like a rocket. The marriage of Pinkey, three years ago, had affected Mrs Partridge like the loss of a limb.
When the news was conveyed to us, we asked permission, the camp being in a prosperous condition, to erect a stone over his grave. But when it came to the inscription we could only think of the two words murmured to him by Miss Pinkey, which we always believe effected his conversion: "GOOD Dog!" She was a mother and a rather exemplary one of five children, although her own age was barely nine.
This was the finishing touch, and lent an air of gaiety to the room. For two hours past Ada and Pinkey had been decorating one another in the bedroom. When they emerged, Mrs Yabsley cried out in admiration, not recognizing her own daughter for the moment.
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