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

After A Good Deal Of Reflection He Began To Trot,  But Not With Any

Speed; He Did Not Want To Win Anything That Day.  I Remarked That His

Ears Looked Dead; No Sound Or Sight Of Any Kind Disturbed The Peace

Of His Mind.  He Evidently Knew This World Well And Despised It;

Nothing In It Could Excite His Feelings Any More.

Halfway Up The Water Road I Met Bill Mills,  A Carrier.  He Stopped

His Team And Looked At Mine.

"Have You Bought That Horse,  Mister?" He Said.

"Not Yet; I Am Only Trying Him," I Replied.  "Do You Know Him?"

"Know Him?  I Should Think I Did.  That's Old Punch.  I Broke Him

Into Harness When He Was Three Off.  He Nearly Killed Me; Ran Away

With Me And My Dog-Cart Among The Scrub At The Racecourse Swamp,  And

Smashed It Against A Honeysuckle."

"Is That Long Ago?" I Enquired.

"Long Ago?  Let Me See.  That Horse Is Twenty Year Old If He's A Day.

He'll Not Run Away With You Now; No Fear; He's Quite Safe.  Good-Day,

Mister.  Come On,  Star;" And Bill Touched His Leader With His Whip.

When I Arrived At The Court-House,  I Made A Search In The Cause List

Book,  And Found That Johnny-Come-Lately Had Been Sent To Gaol Just

Sixteen Years Before For Stealing Old Punch,  So I Restored That

Venerable Trotter To Its Owner.

I Had Soon More Horses Offered To Me For Trial,  Every Old Screw

Within Twenty Miles Being Brought To Me For Inspection.  The Next

Animal I Harnessed Belonged To Andrew Jackson,  And Was Brought By

Andrew Jackson,  Junior,  Who Said His Father Could Let Me Have It For

A Month On Trial.  Jackson,  Junior,  Was Anxious To Go Away Without

The Horse,  But I Told Him To Wait A Bit While I Put On The Harness.

The Animal Was Of A Mouse Colour,  Very Tall,  Something Like A

Giraffe; And By The Time I Got Him Between The Shafts,  I Could See

That He Was Possessed By A Devil Of Some Kind.  It Might Be A Winged

One Who Would Fly Away With Me; So,  In Order To Have A Clear Course,

I Led Him Through The Gateway Into The Middle Of The Road,  And While

Jackson,  Junior,  Held His Head,  I Mounted Carefully Into The Trap.  I

Held The Lines Ready For A Start,  And After Some Hesitation The

Giraffe Did Start,  But He Went Tail Foremost.  I Tried To Reverse The

Engine,  But It Would Only Work In One Direction.  He Backed Me Into

The Ditch,  And Then Across It On To The Side Path,  Then Against The

Fence,  Bucking At It,  And Trying To Go Through And Put Me In The

Tarra.  I Told Andrew,  Junior,  To Take The Giraffe Home To His

Parent,  And Relate What He Had Seen.

My Next Horse Was A Black One From Sale,  And He Also Was Possessed Of

A Devil,  But One Of A Different Species.  He Was Named Gilpin,  And

The Very Name Ought To Have Been A Warning To Me If I Had Had Sense

Enough To Profit By It.  Just As I Sat Down,  And Took The Reins,  And

Was Going To Observe What He Would Do,  He Suddenly Went Away At Full

Gallop.  I Tried To Pull Him In,  But He Put His Chin Against His

Chest,  And The Harder I Pulled The Faster He Flew.  The Road Was Full

Of Ruts,  And I Was Bumped Up And Down Very Badly.  My Hat Went Away,

But,  For The Present,  My Head Kept Its Place.  I Managed To Steer

Safely As Far As The Bridge Across The Tarra But,  In Going Over It,

The Horse's Hoofs And Whirling Wheels Sounded Like Thunder,  And

Brought Out The Whole Population Of Tarraville To Look At Me.  It Was

On A Sunday Afternoon; Some Good People Were Singing Hymns In The

Local Chapel,  And As I Passed The Turn Of The Road,  They Left The

Anxious Benches,  Came Outside In A Body,  And Gazed At Me,  A

Bare-Headed And Miserable Sabbath-Breaker Going Swiftly To Perdition.

I Also Was On A Very Anxious Bench.  But Now There Was A Long Stretch

Of Good Road Before Me,  And I Made Good Use Of It.  Instead Of

Pulling The Horse In,  I Let Him Go,  And Encouraged Him With The Whip

To Go Faster,  Being Determined To Let Him Gallop Until Either He Or

The Sun Went Down.  Then The Despicable Wretch Slackened His Pace,

And Wanted To Come To Terms.  So I Wheeled Him Round And Whipped Him

Without Mercy,  Making Him Gallop All The Way Home Again.  I Did Not

Buy Him.

But The Next Horse I Tried Was Comparatively Blameless,  So I Bought

Him,  And At The End Of The First Month Sent In A Claim To The Law

Department For The Usual Allowance.  I Was Curtly Informed That The

Amount Had Been Reduced From Fifty Pounds To Ten Pounds For My Horse,

Although Sixty Pounds Was Still Allowed To The Other Horse For

Travelling The Same Distance,  The Calculation Evidently Being Based

On The Supposition That The Police Magistrate's Horse Would Eat Six

Times As Much As Mine.  Remonstrance Was Vain,  And I Found I Had

Burdened Myself With An Animal,  Possessing No Social Or Political

Influence Whatever.  I Knew Already That The World Was Governed

Without Wisdom,  And I Now Felt That It Was Also Ruled With Extreme

Meanness.

And Even After My Horse Was Condemned To Starve On Ten Pounds Per

Annum,  The Cost Of Justice Was Still Extravagant.  Without Reckoning

The Expense Incurred In Erecting And Maintaining Three Court Houses,

And Three Police Stations,  And Paying Three Policemen For Doing Next

To Nothing,  I Ascertained From The Cause Lists That It Cost The

Government Fourteen Pounds Sterling Every Time We Fined Terry,  The

Cobbler,  Five Shillings For Being Drunk; And Terry Did Not Always Pay

The Fines.  What Ails British Law Is Dignity,  And The Insufferable

Expense Attending It.  The Disease Will Never Be Cured Until A

Strong-Minded Chief Justice Shall Be Found,  Who Has Sense Enough To

Sit On The Bench In His Native Hair,  And To Take Off His Coat When

The Thermometer Rises To Eighty Degrees.  It Was In That Manner Judge

Winstanley Kept Court At Waterloo In Illinois,  And We Had There

Quicker Justice,  Cheaper Laws,  And Better Manners Than Those Which

This Southern Hemisphere Yet Exhibits.  As To The Lawyers,  If We Did

Not Like Them,  We Could Lynch Them,  So They Were Sociable And Civil.

Moreover,  Prairie De Long Was Discovered And Settled Nearly Twenty

Years Before Australia Felix Was Heard Of.

The Three Villages Had A Life-Long Feud With,  And A Consuming

Jealousy Of,  Each Other.  Until My Arrival I Was Not Aware That There

Were Three Such Places As Palmerston,  Alberton,  And Tarraville,

Claiming Separate And Rival Existences.  I Had A Notion That They

Were Merely Straggling Suburbs Of The Great City And Seaport,  Port

Albert.  But It Was A Grievous Mistake.  I Asked A Tall Young Lady At

The Hotel,  Who Brought In Some Very Salt Fish That Took The Skin Off

The Roof Of My Mouth,  If She Could Recommend The Society Of These

Villages,  And If She Would Favour Me With Her Opinion As To Which

Would Be The Best Place To Select As A Residence,  And She Said,  "The

People There Are An 'Orrid Lot."  This Was Very Discouraging; But,  On

Making Further Enquiries,  I Found She Only Expressed The Opinion

Which The Inhabitants Of These Centres Of Population Held Of Each

Other; And It Was Evident That I Should Have To Demean Myself With

Prudence,  And Show No Particular Affection For One Place More Than

For Another,  Or Trouble Would Ensue.  Therefore,  As Soon As Occasion

Offered,  I Took A House And Paddock Within Easy Distance Of All The

Three Corners,  So That When The Government Allowance Had Reduced My

Horse To A Skeleton,  I Might Give Him A Spell On Grass,  And Travel To

The Courts On Foot.  The House Was On A Gentle Rise,  Overlooking A

Rich River Flat.  It Had Been Built By A Retainer Of Lord Glengarry,

Who Had Declined To Follow Any Further The Fortunes Of His Chief When

He Had Closed His Dairying Operations At Greenmount.  A Tragedy Had

Been Enacted In It Some Years Before,  And A Ghost Had Often Since

Been Seen Flitting About The House And Grounds On Moonlight Nights.

This Gave An Aristocratic Distinction To The Property,  Which Was Very

Pleasing,  As It Is Well Known That Ghosts Never Haunted Any Mansions

Or Castles Except Such As Have Belonged To Ancient Families Of Noble

Race.  I Bought The Estate On Very Reasonable Terms,  No Special

Charge Being Made For The Ghost.

The Paddock Had Been Without A Tenant For Some Time,  But I Found It

Was Not Unoccupied.  A Friendly Neighbour Had Introduced His Flock Of

Sheep Into It,  And He Was Fattening Them Cheaply.  I Said,  "Tityre,

Tu Patulae Recubans Sub Tegmine Fayi,  Be Good Enough To Round Up Your

Sheep And Travel."  Tityrus Said That Would Be All Right; He Would

Take Them Away As Soon As They Were Ready For The Butcher.  It Would

Be No Inconvenience To Me,  As My Horse Would Not Be Able To Eat All

The Grass.  The Idea Of Paying Anything Did Not Occur To Him; He Was

Doing Me A Favour.  He Was One Of The Simple Natives.  As I Did Not

Like To Take Favours From An Entire Stranger,  The Sheep And The

Shepherd Sought Other Pastures Beyond The Winding Tarra.

The Dense Tea-Tree Which Bordered The Banks Of The River Was The Home

Of Wild Hogs,  Which Spent The Nights In Rooting Up The Soil And

Destroying The Grass.  I Therefore Armed Myself With A Gun Charged

With Buckshot,  And Went To Meet The Animals By Moonlight.  I Lay In

Ambush Among The Tussocks.  One Shot Was Enough For Each Hog; After

Receiving It He Retired Hastily Into The Tea-Tree And Never Came Out

Again.

After I Had Cleared My Land From Sheep And Pigs,  The Grass Began To

Grow In Abundance; And Passing Travellers,  Looking Pensively Over The

Fence,  Were Full Of Pity For Me Because I Had Not Stock Enough To

Eat The Grass.  One