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

Blackfellows. He Had A White Man's Funeral,  But There Was No Live

Parson Present,  So King Coco Quine Made An Oration,  Waving His Hands

Over The Coffin,  "All Same As Whitefellow Parson," Then We All Threw

Clods On The Lid.

So Much Noise Was Made By The Women Screaming And The Parson

Hammering,  That The Stockman Was Able To Launch One Crack Of His

Stock-Whip On The Parson's Back Before His Arrival Was Observed.  The

Parson Sprang Up Into The Air Like A Shot Deer,  And Then Took To His

Heels.  He Did Not Run Towards The Open Plains,  But Made A Straight

Line For The Nearest Part Of The Rises.  As He Ran,  Frank Followed At

An Easy Canter,  And Over And Over Again He Landed His Lash With A

Crack Like A Pistol On The Behind Of The Black,  Who Sprang Among The

Rough Rocks Which The Horse Could Not Cross,  And Where The Lash Could

Not Reach Him.

Then There Was A Parley.  The Parson Was Smarting And Furious.  He

Had Learned The Colonial Art Of Blowing Along With The Language.  He

Threw Down His Waddy And Said:

"You Stockman,  Frank,  Come Off That Horse,  Drop Your Whip,  And I'll

Fight You Fair,  Same As Whitefellow.  I Am As Good A Man As You Any

Day."

"Do You Take Me For A Blooming Fool,  Parson?  No Fear.  If Ever I See

You At That Hut Again,  Or Anywhere On The Run,  I'll Cut The Shirt Off

Your Back.  I Shall Tell Mr. Calvert What You Have Been After,  And

You'll Soon Find Yourself In Chokey With A Rope Round Your Neck."

The Parson Left Nyalong,  And When He Returned He Was Dying Of Rum And

Rheumatism.

Frank Rode Back To The Hut.  The Mother And Daughter Had Stood At The

Door Watching Him Flog The Parson.  He Was In Their Eyes A Hero; He

Had Scourged Their Savage Enemy,  And Had Driven Him To The Rocks.

They Were Weeping Beauties--At Least The Daughter Was A Beauty In

Frank's Eyes--But Now They Wiped Away Their Tears,  Smoothed Their

Hair,  And Thanked Their Gallant Knight Over And Over Again.  Two At A

Time They Repeated Their Story,  How They Saw The Blackfellow Coming,

How They Bolted The Door,  And How He Battered It With His Club,

Threatening To Kill Them If They Did Not Open It.

Frank Had Never Before Been So Much Praised And Flattered,  At Least

Not Since His Mother Weaned Him; But He Pretended Not To Care.  He

Said:

"Tut,  Tut,  It's Not Worth Mentioning.  Say No More About It.  I Would

Of Course Have Done As Much For Anybody."

Of Course He Could Not Leave The Ladies Again To The Mercy Of The

Parson,  So He Waited Until The Shepherd Returned With His Flock.

Then Frank Rode Away With A New Sensation,  A Something As Near Akin

To Love As A Rough Stockman Could Be Expected To Feel.

Neddy,  The Shepherd,  Asked Mr. Calvert For The Loan Of Arms,  And He

Taught His Wife And Daughter The Use Of Old Tower Muskets.  He Said,

"If Ever That Parson Comes To The Hut Again,  Put A Couple Of Bullets

Through Him."

After That Frank Called At The Hut Nearly Every Day,  Enquiring If The

Parson Had Been Seen Anywhere Abroad.

"No," Said Cecily,  "We Haven't Seen Him Any More;" And She Smiled So

Sweetly,  And Lowered Her Eyes,  And Spoke Low,  With A Bewitching

Tasmanian Accent.

Frank Was In The Mud,  And Sinking Daily Deeper And Deeper.  At Last

He Resolved To Turn Farmer And Leave The Run,  So He Rented The Land

Adjoining Philip's Garden And The Forty-Acre.  There Was On It A

Four-Roomed,  Weather-Board House And Outbuildings,  Quite A Bush

Palace.  Farming Was Then Profitable.  Frank Ploughed A Large Paddock

And Sowed It With Wheat And Oats.  Then While The Grain Was Ripening

He Resolved To Ask Cecily A Very Important Question.  One Sunday He

Rode To The Hut With A Spare Horse And Side Saddle.  Both Horses Were

Well Groomed,  The Side Saddle Was New,  The Bits,  Buckles,  And

Stirrup-Irons Were Like Burnished Silver.  Cecily Could Ride Well

Even Without A Saddle,  But Had Never Owned One.  She Yielded To

Temptation,  But With Becoming Coyness And Modesty.  Frank Put One

Hand On His Knee,  Holding The Bridle With The Other; Then Cicely

Raised One Of Her Little Feet,  Was Lifted Lightly On To The Saddle,

And The Happy Pair Cantered Gaily Over The Plain To Their Future Home.

Frank Showed His Bride-Elect The Land And The Crops,  The Cows And The

Horses,  The Garden And The House.  Cecily Looked At Everything,  But

Said Next To Nothing.  "She Is Shy," Frank Thought,  "And I Must Treat

Her Gently."  But The Opportunity Must Not Be Thrown Away,  And On

Their Way Over The Plains Frank Told His Tale Of Love.  I Don't Know

Precisely What He Said Or How He Said It,  Not Having Been Present,

But He Did Not Hook His Fish That Day,  And He Took Home With Him The

Bait,  The Horse,  And The Empty Side-Saddle.  But He Persevered With

His Suit,  And Before The Wheat Was Ripe,  Cecily Consented To Be His

Bride.

He Was So Overjoyed With His Success That Instead Of Waiting For The

Happy Day When He Had To Say "With This Ring I Thee Wed,  With All My

Worldly Goods I Thee Endow," He Gave Cecily The Worldly Goods

Beforehand--The Horse,  With The Beautiful New Side Saddle And

Bridle--And Nearly All His Cash,  Reserving Only Sufficient To

Purchase The Magic Ring And A Few Other Necessaries.

The Evening Before The Happy Day The Pair Were Seen Walking Together

Before Sundown On A Vacant Lot In The Township,  Discussing,  It Was

Supposed,  The Arrangements For The Morrow.

It Was The Time Of The Harvest,  And Philip Had Been Engaged To

Measure The Work Of The Reapers On A Number Of Farms.  I Am Aware

That He Asked And Received 1 Pound For Each Paddock,  Irrespective Of

Area.  On The Bridal Morn He Walked Over Frank's Farm With His Chain

And Began The Measurement,  The Reapers,  Most Of Them Broken Down

Diggers,  Following Him And Watching Him.  Old Jimmy Gillon Took One

End Of The Chain; He Said He Had Been A Chainman When The Railway

Mania First Broke Out In Scotland,  So He Knew All About Land

Surveying.  Frank Was Absent,  But He Returned While Philip Was

Calculating The Wages Payable To Each Reaper,  And He Said:  "Here's

The Money,  Master; Pay The Men What's Coming To 'Em And Send 'Em

Away."

Frank Looked Very Sulky,  And Philip Was Puzzled.  He Knew The

Blissful Ceremony Was To Take Place That Day,  But There Was No Sign

Of It,  Nor Of Any Bliss Whatever; No Wedding Garments,  No Parson,  No

Bride.

The Bare Matter Of Fact Was,  The Bride Had Eloped During The Night.

"For Young Lochinvar Had Come Out Of The West,

And An Underbred,  Fine-Spoken Fellow Was He."

He Was A Bullock-Driver Of Superior Manners And Attractive

Personality,  And Was The Only Man In Australia Who Waxed And Curled

His Moustaches.  Cecily Had For Some Time Been Listening To

Lochinvar,  Who Was Known To Have Been Endeavouring To "Cut Out"

Frank.  She Was Staying In The Township With Her Mother Preparing For

Matrimony,  And Her Horse Was In The Stable At Howell's Hotel.

When Frank Rode Away To His Farm On That Fateful Evening,  Lochinvar

Was Watching Him.  He Saw Cecily Going Home To Her Mother For The

Last Night,  And While He Was Looking After Her Wistfully,  And The

Pangs Of Despairing Love Were In His Heart,  Bill The Butcher Came Up

And Said:

"Well,  Lock,  What Are You Going To Do?"

"Why,  What Can I Do?  She Is Going To Marry Frank In The Morning."

"I Don't Believe It:  Not If You Are Half The Man You Ought To Be."

"But How Can I Help It?"

"Help It?  Just Go And Take Her.  Saddle Your Horse And Her Own,  Take

'Em Up To The Cottage,  And Ask Her Just To Come Outside For A Minute.

And If You Don't Persuade Her In Five Minutes To Ride Away With You

To Ballarat,  I'll Eat My Head Off.  I Know She Don't Want To Marry

Frank; All She Wants Is An Excuse Not To,  And It Will Be Excuse

Enough When She Has Married You."

These Two Worthy Men Went To The Hotel And Talked The Matter Over

With Howell.  The Jolly Landlord Slapped His Knee And Laughed.  He

Said:  "You Are Right,  Bill.  She'll Go,  I'll Bet A Fiver,  And Here

It Is,  Lock; You Take It To Help You Along."

This Base Conspiracy Was Successful,  And That Was The Reason Frank

Was So Sulky On That Harvest Morning.

He Was Meditating Vengeance.  Love And Hate,  Matrimony And Murder,

Are Sometimes Not Far Asunder,  But Frank Was Not By Nature Vengeful;

He Had That "Foolish Hanging Of The Nether Lip Which Shows A Lack Of

Decision."

I Would Not Advise Any Man To Seek In A Law Court A Sovereign Remedy

For The Wounds Inflicted By The Shafts Of Cupid; But Frank Tried It.

During His Examination In Chief His Mien Was Gloomy And His Answers

Brief.

Then Mr. Aspinall Rose And Said:  "I Appear For The Defendant,  Your

Honour,  But From Press Of Other Engagements I Have Been Unable To

Give That Attention To The Legal Aspects Of This Case Which Its

Importance Demands,  And I Have To Request That Your Honour Will Be

Good Enough To Adjourn The Court For A Quarter Of An Hour."

The Court Was Adjourned For Half An Hour,  And Mr. Aspinall And His

Solicitor Retired To A Room For A Legal Consultation.  It Began Thus:

"I Say,  Lane,  Fetch Me A Nobbler Of Brandy; A Stiffener,  Mind."

Lane Fetched The Stiffener In A Soda-Water Bottle,  And It Cleared The

Legal Atmosphere.

When The Court Resumed Business,  Frank Took His Stand In The Witness

Box,  And A Voice Said:  "Now,  Mr. Barlow,  Look At Me."

Frank Had Been Called Many Names In His Time,  But Never "Mr. Barlow"

Before Now.  He Looked And Saw The Figure Of A Little Man With A

Large Head,  Whose Voice Came Through A Full-Grown Nose Like The Blast

Of A Trumpet.

"You Say You Gave Cecily Some Money,  A Horse,  Saddle,  And Bridle?"

"I Did."

"And You Bought A Wedding Ring?"

"I've Got It In My Pocket."

"I See.  Your Honour Will Be