n uttered by poor, prejudiced,
obstinate old nurse.

To Jack Penny the captain was always saying:

"I say, young 'un, how you've growed too; not uppards but beam ways.
Why, hang me if I don't think you'll make a fine man yet!"

And so he did; a great strong six-foot fellow, with a voice like a
trombone. Jack Penny is a sheep-farmer on his own account now, and
after a visit to England with my staunch friend the doctor, where I
gained some education, and used to do a good deal of business for my
father, who is one of the greatest collectors in the south, I returned
home, and went to stay a week with Jack Penny.

"I say," he said laughing, "my back's as strong as a lion's now. How it
used to ache!"

We were standing at the door of his house, looking north, for we had
been talking of our travels, when all at once I caught sight of what
looked like a little white tombstone under a eucalyptus tree.

"Why, what's that?" I said.

Jack Penny's countenance changed, and there were a couple of tears in
the eyes of the great strong fellow as he said slowly:

"That's to the memory of Gyp, the best dog as ever lived!"

I must not end without a word about Jimmy, my father's faithful
companion in his botanical trips.

Jimmy nearly went mad for joy when I got back from England, dancing
about like a child. He was always at the door, black and shining as
ever, and there was constantly something to be done. One day he had
seen the biggest ole man kangaroo as ever was; and this time there was a
wallaby to be found; another the announcement that the black cockatoos
were in the woods; or else it would be:

"Mass Joe, Mass Joe! Jimmy want go kedge fis very bad; do come a day."

And I? Well, I used to go, and it seemed like being a boy again to go
on some expedition with my true old companion and friend.

Yes, friend; Jimmy was always looked upon as a friend; and long before
then my mother would have fed and clothed him, given him anything he
asked. But Jimmy was wild and happiest so, and I found him just as he
was when I left home, faithful and boyish and winning, and often ready
to say:

"When Mass Joe ready, go and find um fader all over again!"

THE END.

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Bunyip Land, by George Manville Fenn

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