eyebrows may have
risen ever so slightly at that word 'mate,' I was frankly pleased and
flattered by it. Then, as now, I could appreciate as a compliment the
inclination of such a good fellow to give me so friendly a title; and
yet I fear me no genuine democrat would admit that I had any claim to
be regarded as a disciple of his cult!

His mind deliberately bent on conveying instruction, Ted proved rather
a poor teacher. In that role he was the least thing tiresome, and
given to enlargement upon unessentials, while overlooking the things
that matter. Unconsciously he had taught me much; in his teaching week
he rather fretted me. But, all the same, I was sorry when the end of
it arrived. We had arranged for him to drive with me to the point at
which our track crossed a main road, where we should meet the
storekeeper's cart. There would be stores for me to bring back, and
Ted would finish his journey with the storekeeper's man. Ted insisted
on making me a present of his own special axe, which he treated and
regarded as some men will treat a pet razor. He had taught me to use
and keep it fairly well. I gave him my big horn-handled knife, which
was quite a tool-kit in itself; and my father gave him a hunting-crop
to which he had taken a desperate fancy.

The storekeeper's man witnessed our parting, and that kept me on my
dignity; but when the pair of them were out of sight, I felt I had
lost a friend, and had many cares upon my shoulders. Driving back
alone through the bush with our stores, I made some fine resolutions.
I was now in my twelfth year, and very nearly a man, I told myself. It
would be my business to keep our home in order, to take particularly
good care of my father, and to see that he was as comfortable as I
could make him. Certainly, I was a very serious-minded youngster; and
it did not make me less serious to find when I got back to the
_Livorno_ that my father was lying in his bunk in some pain, and, as I
knew at first glance, very much depressed. He had strained or hurt
himself in some way in cutting firewood.

'You oughtn't to have done it, you know, father,' I remember saying,
very much as a nurse or parent might have said it. 'We've plenty
stacked in the main hatch, and you know the wood's my job.'

He smiled sadly. 'I'm not quite sure that there's any work here that
doesn't seem to be your "job," old fellow,' he said. 'At least, if any
of it's mine, it must be a kind that's sadly neglected.'

'W