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Bruce, Mary Grant, 1878-1958

"Mates at Billabong"

The young voices rang out cheerily, David Linton
listening in his armchair, his hand over his eyes.
Norah was in bed when her father looked in, in passing, to say
good-night. She put up her face to him sleepily.
"It's been a beautiful Christmas, Daddy dear!" she said.


CHAPTER XI

"LO, THE POOR INDIAN!"

I mind the time when first I came
A stranger to the land.
HENRY LAWSON.

The house was unusually quiet. It was New Year's Day, and every man on
the place, and most of the maids, had gone off to a bush race meeting,
ten miles away. Even Mrs. Brown had allowed herself to be persuaded to
go and, arrayed in her best silk gown, had climbed laboriously into the
high double buggy, driven by Dave Boone, and departed, waving to Norah
a stout reticule that looked, Wally said, as though it contained
sausages! Only Mary, the housemaid, remained. Mary was a prim soul, and
did not care for race meetings. She had remarked that she would stay at
home and "crocher"!
Mr. Linton and the boys had ridden away after lunch. A valuable bull
had slipped down the side of a steep gully and injured himself, and
bush surgery was required. David Linton was rather notable in this
direction, and he had seen to it that Jim had had a thorough course of
veterinary training in Melbourne.


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