Australia Felix

the surplus goods and do duty as a sleeping-room for Long Jim and Hempel: the lean-to the pair had occupied till now was being converted into a kitchen. At great cost and trouble, Mahony had so

the summer heat. Finally, a substantial load of firewood carted in, and two snakes that had made the journey in hollow logs dispatched,

ty the worst gaps between the slabs. At Ocock’s Auction Rooms he bought a horsehair sofa to match his armchair, a strip of carpet, a bed, a washhand-stand and a looking-glass, and tacked up a calico curtain before the window. His books, fetched out of the wooden case, were arranged on a brand-new s

Jim was equal to none but the simplest jobs; and Hempel, the assistant, had his hands full with the store. Well, it was a blessing at this juncture that business could be left to him. Hempel was as straight as a die; was a real treasure — or would have been,

ening — old Ocock; the postmaster; a fellow storekeeper, ex-steward to the Duke of Newcastle — to comment on his alterations and impr

a bit o’ company o’ nights for yer lady when she

Tarrangower, wher

H INTEREST ON THE FATAL DAY. OF COURSE I’LL COME AND SEE YOU SPLICED, TOGS OR NO TOGS— TO TELL THE TRUTH MY KICKSIES ARE ON THEIR VERY LAST LEGS— AND THERE’S NOTHING DOING HERE— ALL THE LOOSE STUFF’S BEEN TURNED OVER. THERE’S OCEANS OF QUARTZ, OF COURSE, AND THEY’RE TRYING TO POUND IT UP IN DOL

’s opinions, he had yet an odd distrust of that friend’s ability to look after himself. And now he was presuming to doubt Polly, too. Like his imperence! What the dickens did HE know of Polly? Keenly relishing the sense of his own intimate knowledge, Mahony touched the

with a like streak in his own nature. And this, though at the moment he was going through a very debauch of frankness. To the little black-eyed girl who pored over his letters at “Beamish’s Family Hotel,” he unbosomed himself as never in his life before. He enlarged on his tastes and preferences, his likes and dislikes; he gave vent to his real feelings for the country of his exile, and his longings for “home”; told how he had come to the colony, in the first instance, with the fantastic notion of redeeming the fortunes of his family; described his collections of butterflies and plants to her, using their La

AS I BELIEVE I DO, MY POLLY, Y

her reply; th

I AM VERY FOND OF IT AND SHALL INDEED LIKE V

is forehead and exclaimed aloud at his own stupidity. That night, into his reply he slipped four five-pound notes. JUST TO BUY YOURSELF ANY LITTLE THING YOU FANCY, DEAREST. IF I CHOSE A GIFT, I MIGHT SEND WHAT WOULD NOT BE ACCEPTABLE TO YOU. Yes, sure enough, that was it — little Polly had been in straits for money: the next news he heard was that she had bought and was stitching her wedding-gown. Taxed with her need, Polly guiltily admitted that her salary for the past three months was owing to her. But there had been great expenses in connection with the hotel; and Mr. B. had had an accident to his leg. From what she wrote, though, Mahony saw that it was not the first time such re

down thus comfortably to Polly’s nuptials. They drove the eternal forty odd miles to Geelong, each stick and stone of which was fast becoming known to Mahony; a journey that remained equally tiresome whether the red earth rose as a thick red dust, or whether as now it had turned to a mud like

ove to town, a tight fit in a double buggy. On the back seat, Jinny clung to and half supported a huge clothes-basket, which contained the wedding-breakfast. Polly

st present was an elder sister, Miss Sarah Turnham, who, being out of a situation at the moment, had sailed down from Melbourne. This young lady, a sprightly brunette of some three or four and twenty, without the fine, regular features of Ned and Polly, but with tenfold their vivacity and experience, caused quite a sensation; and Tilly’s audible raptures at beholding her Purdy again were o

d, with her pretty white hands, she patted the already perfect bow of Polly’s bonnet-strings. Miss Sarah had no great opinion of the match her sister was making; but she had been agreeably surprised by Mahony’s person and manners, and had said so, thus filling Polly’s soul with bliss. “Provided, of course, little goosey, you have a SPARE ROOM to off

digger himself, quibbled a light evasion, then changed the subject, and offere

roceeding with her farewells. “For, mind, you pro

d or at the bottom of the sea; and Polly, torn between pride and pain at

lls buzzed

le lass . . . beg pard

, Poll! I shall

lly!”—“Good-bye, Polly, my duck, and remember I’ll come to you in a winkin’, h’if and whe

ns in his hand, began to unstiffen from the wooden figure-head he had felt himself duri

ocket-handkerchief had shrunk to the size of a nit, and Polly had

the loneliness of the b

ti-trees’ waxy flowers stood out like orange-blossoms against firs. On damp or marshy ground wattles were aflame: great quivering masses of softest gold. Wherever these trees stood, the fragrance of their yellow puff-ball blossoms saturated the air; one knew, before one saw them, that they were coming, and long after they had been left behind one carried their honeyed sweetness with one; against them, no other scent cou

peatedly obliged to leave the track and take to the bush, where he steered a way as best he could through trees, stumps, boulders and crab-holes. Sometimes he rose to his feet to encourage the horse; or he alighted and pulled it by the

me scored with ridges and furrows which threw them violently from side to side. Unused to bush driving, Polly was sure at each fresh jolt that this time the cart MUST tip over; and yet she preferred the track and its dangers to Richard’s adventurous attempts to carve a passage through the scrub. A little later a cold south wind sprang up, which struck through her thin silk mantle; she was very tired, having been on her feet since five o’clock that morning; and all the happy fuss and excitement of the wedding was behind her. Her heart sank. She loved Richard dearly; if he had as

liding forward, now by inches, now with a great jerk. At last Mahony no

nd reddened. “It’s my . . . my fee

y with her knees raised to a hump in front of her. All the afternoon they had been making for dim blue ranges. After leaving the flats near Geelong, the track went up and down. Grey-green forest surrounded them, out of which nobbly hills rose like islands from a sea of trees. As they approached the end of their journ

d at the horse’s head. They drew up before a public-house. Cramped from sitting and numb with cold, Polly climbed stiffly down as bidden; and Mahony having unloaded the baggage, mounted to his seat again to drive the cart into the yard. This was a false move, as he was quick to see: he should not have left Polly standing alone. For the news of the arrival of “Doc.” Mahony and his bride flew from mouth to mouth, and all the loafers who were in the bar turned out t

held a candle stuck in a bottle, was accosted by Richard and soundly rated. When they turned out of the street with its few dismal oil-lamps, their way led them among dirty tents and black pits, and they had to depend for light on the lantern they carried. They crossed a ri

me, little wife! Not much of a place,

Richard,” said Polly staun

her dress, Polly waited while her husband undid the door, then followed him through a chaos, whi

. The fire crackled, the kettle was on the boil, the cloth spread. He turned to Polly to kiss her welcome, to relieve her of bonnet and mantle. But

. . With the lamp in her hand, she tip-toed guiltily to a door in the wall: it opened into a tiny bedroom with a sloping roof. No, this was all, all there was of it: just these two miserable little poky rooms! She raised her head and looked round, and the tears welled up in spite of herself. The roof was so low that you could almost touch it; the window was no larger than a pocket-handkerchief; there were chinks between the slabs of the walls. And from one of

: it sounded as though all the tins and cans in the town were being beaten and banged before the door. Polly forgot the tarantula, forgot her bitter disappointment with her

hem off with a handsome gratuity, and he carried the trunk on his own shoulder, Long Jim following behind with bags and bundl