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Bruce, Mary Grant, 1878-1958

"Mates at Billabong"

"I'm quite close if
you want anything."
"Oh, I won't want anything, thanks," Norah answered. "Good-night,
Jimmy."
"Good-night, little chap."
Norah tumbled hastily into bed and slept dreamlessly. She did not know
that Jim dragged a sofa and some rugs along the corridor, and slept
close to her door.
"Kid might dream and wake up scared," he said to Wally, a little
apologetically, before mounting guard. It was Jim's way.


CHAPTER XVI

A CHILD'S PONY

With the spirit of fire and of dew
To show the road home to them all.
KENDALL.

It was quite early next morning when Cecil awoke. One of his grievances
against the country was the way in which the birds acted as alarum
clocks every day, rousing him from his well-earned slumbers fully an
hour before even the earliest milk cart rattling along the suburban
street fulfilled a similar purpose at home. Generally, he managed to
turn over and go to sleep again. This morning, however, he was
unusually wakeful.
He lay turning in his mind his anger against his cousins. Little causes
for annoyance, simple enough in themselves, had been brooded over until
they made up a very substantial total; and now, last night's happenings
capped everything. In his own heart of hearts he knew that he had small
justification for his childish outbursts of anger; only it was not
Cecil's nature to admit any such thing, and if justification were not
evident, his mind was quite equal to manufacturing it.


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