United States or Papua New Guinea ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Might," and Dave spat into the fire. "Anyway," Dad went on, "we must have a go at this handicap with the old mare; it's worth trying for, and, believe me, now! she'll surprise a few of their flash hacks, will Bess." "Yairs, she can go all right." And Dave spat again into the fire. "GO! I've never known anything to keep up with her.
He was interrupted by a startled exclamation from Considine. "Married!" he said. "Married! I forgot all about my wife. I am married!" "What!" said Charlie. "Are you married?" "Yairs. Married. Yairs! Should just think I was." "Not to a lubra, I suppose?" "Lubra, no! A hot-tempered faggot of a woman I met at Pike's pub. I lived with her three weeks and left her there.
"Yairs," said young Mick, with withering emphasis. "Darnce! He can't darnce. I'll run, darnce, jump, or fight any man in the district for two quid." Before the challenge could be accepted there was an unexpected interruption. Hugh had put the big trotting mare in the light trap for Miss Harriott and Mary to drive home.
"S'pose I must be eighteen now ...Why?" A silence. "I've been thinking of that land at the back if we had that I believe we could make money." "Yairs if we HAD." Another silence. "Well, I mean to have it, and that before very long." Dave raised his head, and looked towards Dad. "There's four of you old enough to take up land, and where could you get better country than that out there for cattle?
"We've had thim on this run," said Murty, "as wanted their horses led gently up to thim, and then they climb into the saddle like a lady. And when they'd come home, all they'd be lookin' for 'ud be some one to casht their reins to, the way they cud strowl off to their tay. Isn't that so, Mick?" "Yairs," said Mick. He was riding an unbroken three-year-old, and had no time for conversation.
We might try a dash at it, if you like, before we go back; it's moonlight now." "Let's have a try to-night" said Gordon. "Are your coachers handy?" "Yairs. They feed near the house. I'll send 'em on with the gins to-night." When they got back that evening, Carew was so dead-tired that he wished the wild cattle expedition at Jericho.
"Do you know what people he wrote to?" "Yairs. He wrote to William Considine. That was his father's name. His father never sent any money, though. Told him to go to hell, I reckon." "What was your father's name?" "William Patrick Considine." Carew dashed out to his saddle, hurriedly unstrapped a valise, and brought in a small packet of papers.
Dave raised himself on his elbow. "Yairs with CATTLE," he said. "'Bout how many'd that be t' start 'n?" "Well, EIGHT good cows at the least plenty, too. It's simply WONDERFUL how cattle breed if they're let alone. Look at Murphy, for instance. Started on that place with two young heifers those two old red cows that you see knocking about now. THEY'RE the mothers of all his cattle.
He was in doubt. "Oh! What IS it?" Mother moaned. "He IS. I seen 'im just now up in your paddick, an' he's clean off he's pannikin." Just then Dave came down the track whistling. Young Johnson saw him and fled. For some time Mother regarded Dave with grave suspicion, then she questioned him closely. "Yairs," he said, grinning hard, "I was goin' through th' FUST SET."
Why look here, Considine, it means that my old mother will be turned out of her home. That's some odds to me, isn't it?" "Yairs, that's right enough, Mister," said the courteous Considine; "it's lots of odds to you, but what I ask you is what odds is it to me? Why should I go and saddle myself with a she-devil just when I'm coming into a bit of money? I'd walk miles to do her a bad turn."
Word Of The Day