On Our Selection

The Do

ill. Mother and Sal ironing, mopping their faces with a towel and telling each other how hot it was. The dog stretche

he cut greenstuff for him-which the cows ate. He humped water to him which he sullenly refused to drink; and did all in his power to persuade Farmer to get up and go on with the ploughing. I don't know if Dad knew anything of mesmerism, but he used to

ting angrily. A flock of crows flew away from Farmer and "cawed" from a tree close by. Dad was excited, and when he saw that one

" came fro

e and l

issed-"you black

CAW,

ugh he would hurl it to the gr

arri

they at h

him, trembli

s pup, you! Look there! Do you see that?" (He pointed t

ut Anderson's dog had a

k him on the back as he made away. But nothing short of two broken legs would st

ike a wallaby. But when he saw two horses hanging up he hesitated and would have g

g-or fondly imagined he did-from the law to horse-surgery. There was money to be made out of selections, he reckoned, if selectors only knew how to make it-the majority, he proclaimed, did n't know enough to get under a tree when it rained. As a dealer, he was a hard

crops and the weather, and beat

ny fat stee

" he added, "I can

for he knew the horses as we

bay-F

w m

een pounds, if worth a shilling-that is, be

ated ponderingly

issimulation. He shook his head knowingly, and enquir

erence, then-ma

d looked ou

he remarked sadly,

be-six-ten or nothin

" Dad replied, de

Mick would come for the horse on the day following, and after offering a

nder the bushes. He was n't dead, because when Joe s

rse, bewildered-looking, stari

still grinning. Then

said, and galloped away. It was

nto the little paddock at night, and if ever the do

hem again; but Dad treasured them in his heart. Often, when he was thoughtful, he would ponder out plans for getting even with the Donovans-we knew it was the Donovans. And Fate seemed to be o

Maloney were helping us. We were to assist them the following week. The barn was illuminated by fat-lamps, which made the spi

d barking savagely. Dad crawled from beneath a heap of husks and went out. The night was dark. He bade the dogs "

you, Mr

he visitor was. He remained there talking for fully half-

on. And Mother and Mrs. Maloney and Joe e

ed over and over again that she was always under the impression that Mick Donovan was in gaol along with his bad old fathe

mile to-day, 'n' his horse is dead-beat, 'n' he wants one t' take him t' Back Creek t'morrer 'n' le

e he's shook-an' I've an idea." Then he proceeded to instruct Dave i

how him his horse, as he must see it before thinking of exchanging. They proceeded to the paddock together. The hors

OWN horse...You don't mean...S'help me! Old Bess

d, walking round the animal. "N

e appeared, a

of course," he answered, surprisedly, with his

said Dad, grinn

seemed

same question to him. Of course Joe kn

was a

, "what have y' got t' say? Who'd y

g to say; he prefe

ut of this as fast as you can

ed, but

m, and, as he left

he horse: "He's a stolen one right enough, but he's a beauty, and we'll keep him; and

ed. The man went off and brought a policeman. "Orright"-Dad said-"TAKE him." The policeman took him. He took Dad too. The lawyer got Dad off, but