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Updated: June 5, 2025
After that he would move with the throng, and his future actions would depend upon such knowledge as he might be able to gather from the experienced people with whom he came in contact. He presently had ample proof that the driving of Macdougal of Boobyalla was nothing extraordinary here.
I have been mad, but I love you! I don't care; I love you! IT was February, and the Honourable Walter Ryder lingered at the homestead. He had broached to Macdougal an intention of buying the whole of the next season's wool-clip at Boobyalla, and carrying it back to England with him. He thought it might be a profitable investment.
''Bout twenty mile as the crow flies. Why, old man, you look all caved in. 'I'm greatly surprised. I thought Boobyalla was right away in the wilds. A pity this isn't wild enough for you. 'Yes; but cut off completely from the people. 'The people have been distributin' themselves a good deal o' late.
'Track him longa trooper plenty far. He pointed beyond Boobyalla 'My word, Yarra make it big one damn fool that trooper. The thought of the manner in which he had tricked the police tickled the black boy, and he emitted a yell of laughter that startled the Bush sleepers for a mile round, and filled the trees with movements and murmurs of complaint.
Amongst the ship's passengers were Mrs. Donald Macdougal, her two children, and Lucy Woodrow. Mrs. Macdougal, a wealthy and attractive widow, had sold Boobyalla, and intended to make her home in England. Lucy was still her companion, and, bidding them farewell, Jim was glad to know that the girl was well and not unhappy.
Boobyalla was far enough out o' the runnin' till the rushes broke out at Forest Creek an' Jim Crow. As 'tis, I'll bet my boots the Macdougal's as lonesome down there as a sick sheep. 'Why do you think that? ''Cause you can't keep white men on the runs these times; they prefer the rushes.
'D'ye be hearin' iv th' little lady from off the ship? continued Phil, as if following a natural sequence. 'Yes, answered Jim, his cheeks warming a little. 'She is with Mrs. Macdougal at Boobyalla, just beyond Jim Crow, and is well and cheerful. 'Good agin! Ryan sighed heavily as he resumed his swag. 'It's th' on'y thing I'm lamentin' here, th' mighty scarcity iv fine wimmin, he said.
We have seen Donald Macdougal, J.P., as he appeared in Melbourne, but that was on one of the few very special occasions when he condescended to 'dress up. At home on Boobyalla his usual attire comprised a heavy pair of water-tights, old trousers, much the worse for wear more senses than one, hanging in great folds, a dark gray jumper tucked into the trousers, and a battered felt hat, pulled, after long service, into the shape of a limp cone.
The gossip that had sprung up, from which the principals, and Lucy, Mr. and Mrs. Cargill, and Macdougal alone were excluded, was, to some extent, founded on fact, and the guests left the house reluctantly, confident that interesting mischief was brewing at Boobyalla.
Conversation sometimes ran in this vein even at Boobyalla, and when it did Ryder was responsible for much confusion of thought. Conversation in the main dealt with riding-trips, dancing-parties, the stirring incidents of the goldfields, and that prolific subject in all societies and at all times scandal. Mrs.
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