Part 54 (1/2)
”You hain't fur wrong,” replied the good old chronicle, that had so long walked hand in hand with Tiits a holt o' Cunnigarn's its a holt o'
Thoreals!'--'We'll make hit 'ot f'r 'em!' Han ar the hupshot?
'Stiddy!' ses Hi--'w'e 's y' proofs?' 'Proof be dam!' ses they--'don't we know?' They know a 'ell of a lot! Has the sayin' his:--'Onct boys was boys, an' men was men; but now boys his men, an' men's”--(I did n't catch the rest of the sentence) ”Han ere the hupshot? W'y, fact was Cunnigaht; an' six Wogger steers got away, an' a stag ast 'eons; an' the two o' them hover'auled the steers way down hin hour Sedan Paddick Well, heverybody--Muster Magoits a holt of 'eates hopen; an' the yowes an' weaners is boxed; an' puttin' a file through Nosey Half's 'oss-paddick, an' workin'
hon it with 'er steers!' 'Stiddy!' ses Hi--'w'e's y'r proofs?' Way it war, Collings; 'ere come a dose o' rain jis' harter, an' yer could n't track
Well, ar the hupshot? W'y, Warrigal Half war hunloadin' hat Boottara; an' a yaller bullick 'e 'd got, Pilot by naently interposed ”Well, I'll have to be”----
”'Is Pilot starts by night f'm Boottara ration-paddick, an' does 'is thirty erie tailin' harter
'Shove 'eomery Presinkly, up coreals,' ses Muster Magooin' ter flog 'is hanimals thirty ht,” I agreed ”Well, I ”--
”Not 'im,” pursued Jack ”'E turns horf o' the oniar; leaves hall gates hopen; fetches Nosey's place harter dark; houts file, an' hin with 'is -tful Course, 'e clears befo' h hour Sedan Paddick, an' back to Boottara that road 'Ow do Hi know hall this?--ses you?”
”Ah!” said I wisely ”Well, I must be”----
”No; you're in for it,” chuckled Moriarty
”Tole one Cas to Queensland An' ar the hupshot? 'Stiddy, now,' ses Hi--'w'e 's y' proofs?' 'So horf o' you, Jack,' ses you, jist now You're right, Collings
Did n' Hi say, las' lawain ter hev sich anuther year as sixty-hate? Mostly kettle e hed then, afore the wool rose; an' wild dogs bein' plentiful them times; an' we'd a sort o' 'ead stock-keeper, name o' Bob Selkirk; an' this feller 'e started f'm 'ere with hate 'underd an' fo'ty sebm 'ead”----
”And he would have his work cut out for him,” I rees on this station, Jack Well, I , I threw the reins over Cleopatra's head, and drew the near one a little the tightest He stood motionless as a statue, and beautiful as a poet's drea as a bulldog,”
observed the horse-driver ”Shake the soul-bolt out of a man, s'posen you do stick to him”
”And yet Collins can't ride worth a cuss,” contributed Moriarty confidentially
”He's just dropped to this fellow's style Boss wanted to see hiht better”
A slight, loose-built lad, with a spur trailing at his right heel, advanced froroup
”Would you e off o' this feller?”
he asked it on-to him while he's warm, an' no harm done I'd like to try that saddle,” he added, by way of excuse
”Minds aloot I'd bin treatin' like a brother, on account of him bein' fly-blowed, an' the both of us travellin' the sa over, that was Will I have a try?”
”Not worth while, Jack,” I replied ”He ht prop a little, certainly; but it's only playfulness” So I swung into the deep seat of the stolen saddle, and lightly touched the lotus-loving Me, uncertain panoras, fences, and spectators; then a , concussive saddle, and a guarded strain on the dragging reins Also a tranquil cognisance of favourable coes-- no excitement, no admiration, renified and judicious approbation, honourable alike to critic and artist Fools admire, but men of wit approve
”You see, it's--only playfulness--I re punctuated by necessity, rather than by choice Magnificent, but--not war
There's not a-shadow of vice in his com-position As the poet says:--
This is mere--madness, And thus awhile the--fit ork--on hiolden couplets have dis--closed, His silence will--sit drooping