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Bruce, Mary Grant, 1878-1958

"Mates at Billabong"

"Will any one take my hand and lead me for a drink?"
"We'll go up to the house--it's cool there," Jim said. "I want a lemon
squash three feet long. There'll be one for you, Murty, if you come
up."
"I will that same," said Mr. O'Toole, promptly. "There's no vegetable
loike the limon on a day loike this!" So they let Bobs go, and all
trooped inside, where Cecil was found, well brushed, and wearing a
martyred expression--which, however, was not proof against refreshments.
He even went so far as to express mild regret for his slowness to
render assistance, remarking that it was against his doctor's advice
for him to run; which remarks were received with fitting demeanour by
his hearers, though, as Wally remarked later, it was difficult to see
how any one who knew Cecil at all could ever have contemplated the
possibility of his running!
"Well, I must go back and help Murty brand those youngsters," Jim said,
at length, bringing his long form in stages off the sofa. "Coming,
Wal.? And, Norah, just you take things quietly. It's uncommon hot, and
you'll have a long day to-morrow."
Norah assented with surprising meekness, and the day passed calmly,
enlivened by an enthusiastic cricket practice in the evening; after
which she was called into requisition at the piano, and played to an
audience stretched on basket chairs and lounges on the verandah
outside.


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