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Bruce, Mary Grant, 1878-1958

"Mates at Billabong"

Linton
said, smiling ruefully. "Five weeks on my back, Murty!--and goodness
knows how much ahead. It doesn't suit me."
"I will admit there's some on the station 'twould suit betther," Murty
answered. "Dave here, now--sure, he shines best whin he's on his back!
an' I can do a bit av that same meself. ("You can that!" from the
outraged Mr. Boone.) But y' had the drawback to be born widout a lazy
bone in y'r body, so 'tis a hardship on y'. There is but wan thing
that's good in it, as far as th' station sees."
"What's that, Murty?"
"Mrs. Brown here do be tellin' me Miss Norah's not to go away--an'
there's not a man on the place but slung up his hat!" said the
Irishman. "Billabong wouldn't be the same at all widout the little
misthress--we had a grudge agin that foine school in Melbourne, so we
had. However, it's all right now." He beamed on his master.
"Only a postponement, I'm afraid, Murty," said that gentleman, who
beamed himself, quite unconsciously.
"Yerra, it's no good lookin' ahead--time enough to jump over the bridge
when y' come to it," said Murty, cheerfully. "Annyhow, she'll not be
lavin' on us yit. Well, if y' are ready, sir?" He nodded to Boone and
took up his position at the head of Mr. Linton's couch.
"I'll go into the dining-room," the squatter said, as they carried him
gently into the hall.


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