The Book Of The Bush by George Dunderdale (books to read to improve english .TXT) π
Was Plenty Of Unoccupied Country, And When Two Neighbouring
Patriarchs Found Their Flocks Were Becoming Too Numerous For The
Pasture, One Said To The Other: "Let There Be No Quarrel, I Pray,
Between Thee And Me; The Whole Earth Is Between Us, And The Land Is
Watered As The Garden Of Paradise. If Thou Wilt Go To The East, I
Will Go To The West; Or If Thou Wilt Go To The West, I Will Go To The
East." So They Parted In Peace.
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- Author: George Dunderdale
Read book online Β«The Book Of The Bush by George Dunderdale (books to read to improve english .TXT) πΒ». Author - George Dunderdale
Married The Chinese Giant, Whose Brothers And Sisters Were All Of The
Race Of Anak.
My Mate, Philip, Was So Successful With His Little School In The Tent
That He Was Promoted To Another At The Rocky Waterholes, And Then He
Went To The Township At Lake Nyalong. Philip Had Never Travelled As
Far As Lake Nyalong, But Picaninny Jack Told Him That He Had Once
Been There, And That It Was A Beautiful Country. He Tried To Find It
At Another Time, But Got Bushed On The Wrong Side Of The Lake; Now He
Believed There Was A Regular Track That Way If Philip Could Only Find
It. The Settlers And Other Inhabitants Ought To Be Well Off; If Not,
It Was Their Own Fault, For They Had The Best Land In The Whole Of
Australia.
Philip Felt Sure That He Would Find At Least One Friend At Nyalong--
Viz., Mr. Barton, Whom He Had Harboured In His Tent At Bendigo, And
Had Sheltered From The Pursuit Of The Three Bloodthirsty Convicts.
Some People Might Be Too Proud To Look Forward To The Friendship Of A
Flagellator, But In Those Days We Could Not Pick And Choose Our
Chums; Barton Might Not Be Clubable, But He Might Be Useful, And The
Social Ladder Requires A First Step.
Thanks To Such Men As Dan And Bez, In Melbourne, And To Other
Enterprising Builders In Various Places, Habitable Dwellings Of Wood,
Story 4 (Among The Diggers In 1853.) Pg 82Brick, And Bluestone Began To Be Used, Instead Of The Handy But
Uncomfortable Tent, And, At The Rocky Waterholes, Philip Had For Some
Time Been Lodging In A Weatherboard House With The Respectable Mrs.
Martin. Before Going To Look For Nyalong He Introduced His Successor
To Her, And Also To The Scholars. Her Name Was Miss Edgeworth.
The First Virtue Of A Good Master Is Gravity, And Philip Had Begun At
The Beginning. He Was Now Graver Even Than Usual While He Briefly
Addressed His Youthful Auditors.
"My Dear Children," He Said, "I Am Going Away, And Have To Leave You
In The Care Of This Young Lady, Miss Edgeworth. I Am Sure You Will
Find Her To Be A Better Teacher Than Myself, Because She Has Been
Trained In The Schools Of The Great City Of Dublin, And I,
Unfortunately, Had No Training At All; She Is Highly Educated, And
Will Be, I Doubt Not, A Perfect Blessing To The Rising Generation Of
The Rocky Waterholes. I Hope You Will Be Diligent, Obedient, And
Respectful To Her. Good-Bye, And God Bless You All."
These Words Were Spoken In The Tone Of A Judge Passing Sentence Of
Death On A Criminal, And Miss Edgeworth Was In Doubt Whether It Would
Be Becoming Under The Circumstances To Laugh Or To Cry, So She Made
No Speech In Reply. She Said Afterwards To Mrs. Martin, "Mr. Philip
Must Have Been A Most Severe Master; I Can See Sternness On His
Brow." Moreover, She Was Secretly Aware That She Did Not Deserve His
Compliments, And That Her Learning Was Limited, Especially In
Arithmetic; She Had Often To Blame The Figures For Not Adding Up
Correctly. For This Reason She Had A Horror Of Examinations, And
Every Time The Inspector Came Round She Was In A State Of Mortal
Fear. His Name Was Bonwick. He Was A Little Man, But He Was So
Learned That The Teachers Looked Forward To His Visits With Awe. A
Happy Idea Came Into Miss Edgeworth's Mind. She Was, It Is True, Not
Very Learned, Nor Was She Perfect In The Practice Of The Twelve
Virtues, But She Had Some Instinctive Knowledge Of The Weakness Of
The Male Man. Mr. Bonwick Was An Author, A Learned Author Who Had
Written Books--Among Others A School Treatise On Geography. Miss
Edgeworth Bought Two Copies Of This Work, And Took Care To Place Them
On Her Table In The School Every Morning With The Name Of The Author
In Full View. On His Next Visit Mr. Bonwick's Searching Eyes Soon
Detected The Presence Of His Little Treatise, And He Took It Up With
A Pleased Smile. This Was Miss Edgeworth's Opportunity; She Said, In
Her Opinion, The Work Was A Must Excellent One, And Extremely Well
Adapted For The Use Of Schools.
The Inspector Was More Than Satisfied; A Young Lady Of So Much
Judgment And Discrimination Was A Peerless Teacher, And Miss
Edgeworth's Work Was Henceforward Beyond All Question.
There Were No Coaches Running To Nyalong, And, As Philip's Poverty
Did Not Permit Him To Purchase A Horse, And He Had Scruples About
Stealing One, He Packed Up His Swag And Set Out On Foot. It May Be
Mentioned As Bearing On Nothing In Particular That, After Philip Had
Taken Leave Of Miss Edgeworth, She Stood At A Window, Flattened Her
Little Nose Against One Of The Panes, And Watched Him Trudging Away
Story 4 (Among The Diggers In 1853.) Pg 83As Long As He Was In Sight. Then She Said To Mrs. Martin:
"Ain't It A Pity That So Respectable A Young Man Should Be Tramping
Through The Bush Like A Pedlar With A Pack?"
"No, Indeed, Miss, Not A Bit Of It," Replied Mrs. Martin; "Nearly
Every Man In The Country Has Had To Travel With His Swag One Time Or
Another. We Are All Used To It; And It Ain't No Use Of Your Looking
After Him That Way, For Most Likely You'll Never See Him Again." But
She Did.
About Two Miles From The Waterholes Philip Overtook Another Swagman,
A Man Of Middle Age, Who Was Going To Nyalong To Look For Work. He
Had Tried The Diggings, And Left Them For Want Of Luck, And Philip,
Having Himself Been An Unlucky Digger, Had A Fellow Feeling For The
Stranger. He Was An Old Soldier Named Summers.
"I Am Three And Fifty Years Old," He Said, "And I 'Listed When I Was
Twenty. I Was In All The Wars In India For Nineteen Years, And Never
Was Hit But Once, And That Was On The Top Of My Head. Look Here," He
Took Off His Hat And Pointed To A Ridge Made By The Track Of A
Bullet, "If I Had Been An Inch Taller I Shouldn't Be Here Now. And
Maybe It Would Have Been All The Better. I Have Been Too Long At The
Fighting To Learn Another Trade Now. When I 'Listed I Was Told My
Pay Would Be A Shilling A Day And Everything Found. A Shilling A Day
Is Seven Shillings A Week, And I Thought I Should Live Like A
Fighting Cock, Plenty To Eat And A Shilling A Day For Drink Or Sport.
But I Found Out The Difference When It Was Too Late. They Kept A
Strict Account Against Every Man; It Was Full Of What They Called
Deductions, And We Had To Pay For So Many Things Out Of That Shilling
That Sometimes For Months Together I Hadn't The Price Of A Pint O'
Threepenny With A Trop O' Porter Through It."
"What Was The Biggest Battle You Ever Were In?" Enquired Philip.
"Well, I Had Some Close Shaves, But The Worst Was When We Took A
Stockade From The Burmans. My Regiment Was The 47th, And One Company
Of Ours, Sixty-Five, Rank And File, And Two Companies From Other
Regiments Were Ordered To Attack It. Our Officers Were All Shot Down
Before We Reached The Stockade, But We Got In, And Went At The
Burmans With The Bayonet. But Such A Crowd Came At Us From The Rear
Of The Stockade That We Had To Go Out Again, And We Ran Down The
Hill. Our Ranks Were Broken, And We Had No Time To Rally Before A
Lot Of Horsemen Were Among Us. My Bayonet Was Broken, And I Had
Nothing But My Empty Musket To Fight With. I Warded Off The Sabre
Cuts With It Right And Left, So, Dodging Among The Horses, And I Was
Not Once Wounded. It Was All Over In A Hot Minute Or Two, But, When
The Supports Came Up, And We Were Afterwards Mustered, Only Five Men
Of Our Company Answered The Roll-Call. Of Course I Was One Of Them,
And The Barrel Of My Musket Was Notched Like A Saw By All The Strokes
I Had Parried With It." The Last Time Philip Saw Summers He Was
Hammering Bluestone By The Roadside. The Pomp And Circumstance Of
Glorious War Had Left Him In Hisold Age Little Better Than A Beggar.
Story 4 (Among The Diggers In 1853.) Pg 84
Philip Found Nyalong Without Much Trouble, And Renewed The
Acquaintance Begun At Bendigo With Mr. Barton And The Other Diggers.
To All Appearance His Promotion Was Not Worth Much; He Might As Well
Have Stayed At The Waterholes. Mr. Mccarthy Acted As School Director
--An Honorary Office--And He Showed Philip The School. He Said:
"It Is Not Of Much Account, I Must Acknowledge; We Were Short Of
Funds, And Had To Put It Up Cheap. Most Of The Wall, You See, Is
Only Half A Brick Thick, And, During The Sudden Gusts That Come
Across The Lake, The North Side Bulges Inward A Good Deal; So, When
You Hear The Wind Coming You Had Better Send The Children Outside
Until The Gale Is Over. That Is What Mr. Foy, The Last Teacher Did.
And, I Must Tell You Also This School Has Gone To The Dogs; There Are
Some Very Bad Boys Here--The Boyles And The Blakes. When They Saw
Mr. Foy Was Going To Use His Cane On Them They Would Dart Out Of The
School, The Master After Them. Then There Was A Regular Steeplechase
Across The Paddocks, And Every Boy And Girl Came Outside To Watch It,
Screaming And Yelling. It Was Great Fun, But It Was Not
School-Teaching. I Am Afraid You Will Never Manage The Boyles And
The Blakes. Mr. Mclaggan, The Minister, Once Found Six Of Them
Sitting At The Foot Of A Gum Tree, Drinking A Bottle Of Rum. He
Spoke To Them, Told Them That They Were Young Reprobates, And Were
Going Straight To Hell. Hugh Boyle Held Out The Bottle, And Said,
'Here, Mr. Mclaggan, Wouldn't You Like A Nip Yourself?' The Minister
Was On Horseback, And Always Carried A Whip With A Heavy Lash, And It
Was A Beautiful Sight The Way He Laid The Lash On Those Boyles And
Blakes. I Really Think You Had Better Turn Them Out Of The School,
Mr.
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