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Bruce, Mary Grant, 1878-1958

"Mates at Billabong"

"Go--leave me!"
"Sorry, old girl," grinned Jim. "We won't be long."
"Be as long as you like," said the victim of circumstances, cheerfully.
"I'm going to sleep."
The three boys disappeared along the bank, finding, apparently, some
difficulty in discovering a suitable bathing place, for it was some
time before shouts and laughter from a good way off told Norah that
they were in the water. She sighed, looking ruefully at the river
flowing beneath her, and half decided to go in herself; but her father
did not care for her bathing in the open alone, and she gave up the
idea and shut her eyes so that she would not see temptation rippling
down below. Presently she fell asleep.
She did not know how long it was before she woke. Then she jumped up
with a start, thinking, for a moment, that it was dark. The sun had
disappeared behind a huge bank of deep-purple cloud that had crept up,
blotting out everything. It was breathlessly hot and quite still--not a
leaf stirred on a tree, and the birds were quiet.
"Whew!" said Norah. "We're going to have a storm--and a big one!"
She listened. From far up faint calls and laughter still met her ears.
It was evident that the boys were finding the water very much to their
taste.
"Duffers!" Norah ejaculated. "We'll have the loveliest soaking--and
Dad'll be anxious.


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