The Book Of The Bush by George Dunderdale (books to read to improve english .TXT) 📕

The Garden,  And After Filling Her Crop With Worms And Grubs,  She

Flapped Away On One Wing And Went Round The Hut Looking For

Amusement.  She Jumped On Pup's Back,  Scratched Him With Her Claws,

Pecked At His Skull,  And Pulled Locks Of Wool Out Of It,  The Poor

Innocent All The While Yelping And Howling For Mercy.  Sam Never

Helped Pup,  Or Drove Maggie Away; He Was Actually Afraid Of Her,  And

Believed She Was A Dangerous Witch.  Sometimes She Pecked At His

Tail,  And He Dared Not Say A Word,  But Sneaked Away,  Looking Sideways

At Her,  Hanging Down His Ears,  And Afraid To Say His Tail Was His

Own.  Joey,  The Parrot,  Watched All That Was Going On From His Cage,

Which Was Hung On A Hook Outside The Hut Door.  Philip Tried To Teach

Joey To Whistle A Tune:  "There Is Na Luck Aboot The Hoose,  There Is

Na Luck At A'," But The Parrot Had So Many Things To Attend To That

He Never Had Time To Finish The Tune.  He Was,  Indeed,  Very Vain And

Flighty,  Sidling Along His Perch And Saying:  "Sweet Pretty Joey,  Who

Are You,  Who Are You?  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!"  Wanting Everybody To Take

Notice And Admire Him.  When Maggie First Attacked Poor Pup,

Scratched His Back,  Pecked At His Head,  And Tore Locks Of Wool Out

Of Him,  And Pup Screamed Pitifully To All The World For

Help,  Joey Poked His Head Between The Wires Of His Cage,  Turned One

Eye Downwards,  Listened To The Language,  And Watched The New

Performance With Silent Ecstacy.  He Had Never Heard Or Seen Anything

Like It In The Whole Course Of His Life.  Philip Used To Drive Maggie

Away,  Take Up Poor Pup And Stroke Him,  While Maggie,  The Villain,

Hopped Around,  Flapping Her Wings And Giving The Greatest Impudence.

It Really Gave Philip A Great Deal Of Trouble To Keep Order Among His

Domestics.  One Day,  While Hoeing In The Garden,  He Heard The Pup

Screaming Miserably.  He Said,  "There's That Villain,  Maggie,  At Him

Again," And He Ran Up To The Hut To Drive Her Away.  But When He Reached

It There Was Neither Pup Nor Maggie To Be Seen,  Only Joey In His Cage,

And He Was Bobbing His Head Up And Down,  Yelping Exactly Like The

Pup,  And Then He Began Laughing At Philip Ready To Burst,  "Ha!  Ha!

Ha!  Who Are You?  Who Are You?  There Is No Luck Aboot The Hoose,

There Is Na Luck At A'."

The Native Bear Resided In A Packing Case,  Nailed On The Top Of A

Stump Nearly Opposite The Hut Door.  He Had A Strap Round His Waist,

And Was Fastened To The Stump By A Piece Of Clothes Line.  The Boys

Called Him A Monkey-Bear,  But Though His Face Was Like That Of A Bear

He Was Neither A Monkey Nor A Bear.  He Was In Fact A Sloth; His Legs

Were Not Made For Walking,  But For Climbing,  And Although He Had

Strong Claws And A Very Muscular Forearm,  He Was Always Slow In His

Movements.  He Was Very Silent And Unsociable,  Never Joined In The

Amusements Of The Other Domestics,  And When Philip Brought Him A

Bunch Of Tender Young Gum-Tree Shoots For His Breakfast In The

Morning,  He Did Not Even Say "Thanks" Or Smile,  Or Show The Least

Gratitude.  He Never Spoke Except At Dead Of Night,  When He Was

Exchanging Compliments With Some Other Bear Up A Gum Tree In The

Forty-Acre Paddock.  And Such Compliments!  Their Voices Were

Frightful,  Something Between A Roar And A Groan,  And Although Philip

Was A Great Linguist He Was Never Quite Sure What They Were Saying.

But The Bear Was Always Scheming To Get Away; He Was Like The Boers,

And Could Not Abide British Rule.  Philip Would Not Have Kept Him At

All,  But As He Had Taken Him Into The Family Circle When A Cub He Did

Not Like To Be Cruel And Turn Him Out Along In A Heartless World.

Twice Bruin Managed To Untie The Clothes Line And Started For The

Forty-Acre.  He Crawled Along Very Slowly,  And When He Saw Philip

Coming After Him,  He Stopped,  Looked Behind Him,  And Said,  "Hoo,"

Showing His Disgust.  Then Philip Took Hold Of The End Of The Clothes

Line And Brought Him Back,  Scolding All The Time.

"You Miserable Bruin,  You Don't Know What's Good For You; You Can't

Tell A Light-Wood From A Gum-Tree,  And You'll Die Of Starvation,  Or

Else The Boys Will Find You,  And They Will Kill You,  Thinking You Are

A Wild Bush Bear,  For You Don't Show Any Signs Of Good Education,

After All The Trouble I Have Taken To Teach You Manners.  I Am Afraid

You Will Come To A Bad End."

And So He Did.  The Third Time Bruin Loosed The Clothes Line He Had A

Six Hours' Start Before He Was Missed,  And Sure Enough He Hid Himself

In A Lightwood For Want Of Sense,  And That Very Night The Boys Saw

Him By The Light Of The Moon,  And Hugh Boyle Climbed Up The Tree And

Knocked Him Down With A Waddy.

Pussy,  Philip's Sixth Domestic,  Had Attained Her Majority; She Had

Never Gone After Snakes In Her Youth,  And Had Always Avoided Bad

Company.  She Did Her Duty In The House As A Good Mouser,  And When

Mice Grew Scarce She Went Hunting For Game; She Had A Hole Under The

Eaves Near The Chimney,  Through Which She Could Enter The Hut At Any

Time Of The Night Or Day.  While Philip Was Musing After Tea On The

"Pons Asinorum" By The Light Of A Tallow Candle,  Pussy Was Out

Poaching For Quail,  And As Soon As She Caught One She Brought It

Home,  Dropped It On The  Floor,  Rubbed Her Side Against Philip's

Boot,  And Said,  "I Have Brought A Little Game For Breakfast."  Then

Philip Stroked Her Along The Back,  After Which She Lay Down Before

The Fire,  Tucked In Her Paws And Fell Asleep,  With A Good Conscience.

But Many Bush Cats Come To An Unhappy And Untimely End By Giving Way

To The Vice Of Curiosity.  When Dinah,  The Vain Kitten,  Takes Her

First Walk Abroad In Spring Time,  She Observes Something Smooth AndfAVOR OF A BARBAROUS NATION, WITH A BARBAROUS NEGLECT OF

POLICE, FATAL TO THE HUMAN RACE,--IN FAVOR OF A NATION BY PRINCIPLE IN

ETERNAL ENMITY WITH THE CHRISTIAN NAME, A NATION WHICH WILL NOT SO MUCH

AS GIVE THE SALUTATION OF PEACE (_SALAM_) TO ANY OF US, NOR MAKE ANY

PACT WITH ANY CHRISTIAN NATION BEYOND A TRUCE,--IF THIS BE DONE IN FAVOR

OF THE TURK, SHALL IT BE THOUGHT EITHER IMPOLITIC OR UNJUST OR

UNCHARITABLE TO EMPLOY THE SAME POWER TO RESCUE FROM CAPTIVITY A

VIRTUOUS MONARCH, (BY THE COURTESY OF EUROPE CONSIDERED AS MOST

CHRISTIAN,) WHO, AFTER AN INTERMISSION OF ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-FIVE

YEARS, HAD CALLED TOGETHER THE STATES OF HIS KINGDOM TO REFORM ABUSES,

TO ESTABLISH A FREE GOVERNMENT, AND TO STRENGTHEN HIS THRONE,--A MONARCH

WHO, AT THE VERY OUTSET, WITHOUT FORCE, EVEN WITHOUT SOLICITATION, HAD

GIVEN TO HIS PEOPLE SUCH A MAGNA CHARTA OF PRIVILEGES AS NEVER WAS GIVEN

BY ANY KING TO ANY SUBJECTS? IS IT TO BE TAMELY BORNE BY KINGS WHO LOVE

THEIR SUBJECTS, OR BY SUBJECTS WHO LOVE THEIR KINGS, THAT THIS MONARCH,

IN THE MIDST OF THESE GRACIOUS ACTS, WAS INSOLENTLY AND CRUELLY TORN

FROM HIS PALACE BY A GANG OF TRAITORS AND ASSASSINS, AND KEPT IN CLOSE

PRISON TO THIS VERY HOUR, WHILST HIS ROYAL NAME AND SACRED CHARACTER

WERE USED FOR THE TOTAL RUIN OF THOSE WHOM THE LAWS HAD APPOINTED HIM TO

PROTECT?

THE ONLY OFFENCE OF THIS UNHAPPY MONARCH TOWARDS HIS PEOPLE WAS HIS

ATTEMPT, UNDER A MONARCHY, TO GIVE THEM A FREE CONSTITUTION. FOR THIS,

BY AN EXAMPLE HITHERTO UNHEARD OF IN THE WORLD, HE HAS BEEN DEPOSED. IT

MIGHT WELL DISGRACE SOVEREIGNS TO TAKE PART WITH A DEPOSED TYRANT. IT

WOULD SUPPOSE IN THEM A VICIOUS SYMPATHY. BUT NOT TO MAKE A COMMON CAUSE

WITH A JUST PRINCE, DETHRONED BY TRAITORS AND REBELS, WHO PROSCRIBE,

PLUNDER, CONFISCATE, AND IN EVERY WAY CRUELLY OPPRESS THEIR

FELLOW-CITIZENS, IN MY OPINION IS TO FORGET WHAT IS DUE TO THE HONOR AND

TO THE RIGHTS OF ALL VIRTUOUS AND LEGAL GOVERNMENT.

I THINK THE KING OF FRANCE TO BE AS MUCH AN OBJECT BOTH OF POLICY AND

COMPAIsgrace Enough--"

White. But His War Profits Were All Right. Oh,  Yes.

Hilda. Let Me Finish,  Dear,  Since You Want It. (_Reading_) "--Been

Disgrace Enough. But Now That We're In,  I'm Writing In The Faint

Hope,  If You Are Not Too Much Under His Influence,  That You Will

Persuade Him To Keep His Mouth Shut. This Country Will Tolerate

No Difference Of Opinion Now. You Radicals Had Better Get On

Board The Band Wagon. It's Prison Or Acceptance." (_She Stops

Reading._) He's Right,  Dear. There Will Be Nothing More

Intolerant Than A So-Called Democracy At War.

White. By God! It's Superb! Silence For Twenty Years And Now He

Writes His Poor Misguided Sister For Fear She Will Be Further

Disgraced By Her Radical Husband.

Hilda. We Mustn't Descend To His Bitterness.

White. No: I Suppose I Should Resuscitate The Forgotten Doctrine

Of Forgiving My Enemies.

Hilda. He's Not Your Enemy; He Merely Looks At It All

Differently.

White. I Was Thinking Of His Calm Contempt For Me These Twenty

Years--Ever Since You Married Me--"Out Of Your Class," As He

Called It.

Hilda. Oh,  Hush,  Will. I've Been So Happy