f shearers.

Good-humoured Aunt Emma--who was Uncle Abel's niece--recovered first,
and started the conversation. There were one or two neighbours' wives
who bad lent crockery and had come over to help with the cooking in
their turns. Jim Carey's name came up incidentally, but was quickly
dropped, for ill reports of Jim had come home. Then Aunt Emma mentioned
Harry Dale, and glanced meaningly at Mary, whose face flamed as she bent
over her plate.

"Never mind, Mary," said Aunt Emma, "it's nothing to be ashamed of. We
were all girls once. There's many a girl would jump at Harry."

"Who says I'm ashamed?" said Mary, straightening up indignantly.

"Don't tease her, Emma," said Mrs Carey, mildly.

"I'll tell yer what," said young Tom Carey, frankly, "Mary got a letter
from him to-day. I seen her reading it behind the house."

Mary's face flamed again and went down over her plate.

"Mary," said her mother, with sudden interest, "did Harry say anything
of Jim?"

"No, mother," said Mary. "And that's why I didn't tell you about the
letter."

There was a pause. Then Tommy said, with that delightful tact which
usually characterizes young Tommies:

"Well, Mary needn't be so cocky about Harry Dale, anyhow. I seen him
New Year's Eve when we had the dance. I seen him after the dance liftin'
Bertha Buckolt onter her horse in the dark--as if she couldn't get on
herself--she's big enough. I seen him lift her on, an' he took her right
up an' lifted her right inter the saddle, 'stead of holdin' his hand for
her to tread on like that new-chum jackaroo we had. An', what's more,
I seen him hug her an' give her a kiss before he lifted her on. He told
her he was as good as her brother."

"What did he mean by that, Tommy?" asked Mrs Porter, to break an awkward
pause.

"How'm I ter know what he means?" said Tommy, politely.

"And, Tommy, I seen Harry Dale give young Tommy Carey a lick with a
strap the day before New Year's Eve for throwing his sister's cat into
the dam," said Aunt Emma, coming to poor Mary's rescue. "Never mind,
Mary, my dear, he said goodbye to you last."

"No, _he didn't_!" roared Uncle Abel.

They were used to Uncle Abel's sudden bellowing, but it startled them
this time.

"Why, Uncle Abel," cried both Aunt Emma and Mrs Carey, "whatever do you
mean?"

"What I means is that I ain't a-goin' to have the feelin's of a niece
of mine trifled with. What I means is that I seen Harry Dale with Bertha
Buckolt on