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Bruce, Mary Grant, 1878-1958

"Mates at Billabong"

"
"I don't know that I've energy enough to plan anything," said Jim,
lazily. He was lying full length on the lawn, his head on Norah. Wally
was close by, and Cecil and Mr. Linton occupied basket chairs. Peace
would have reigned supreme had not the mosquitoes kept every one busy.
"Any wishes, Cecil?"
"None whatever," said Cecil. "There are no people to go and see, I
think you said, Uncle David?"
"No one that would interest you," Mr. Linton said; and Wally and Jim,
who had groaned internally with fear of being taken "calling," felt
their spirits return.
"My brain's not equal to planning, as I remarked," Jim said. "But if I
go anywhere, I'd like to do so on a horse. I want to feel a horse under
me again."
"Hear, hear," from Wally, softly.
"Well, I can't go out to-morrow," said the squatter. "I've letters to
see to, and Anderson may be out; so you must look after
yourselves--which I believe you to be entirely capable of doing. Norah,
haven't you any ideas?"
"Loads," said Norah, promptly, "but they're all connected with
mosquitoes!" She aimed a vicious blow into space as she spoke, and
sighed, before rubbing the bite. "Well, suppose we ride out and boil
the billy somewhere along the river? Cecil, would you care for that?"
"Very much," said Cecil, in the tones that always gave the impression
that he despised the particular subject under discussion.


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