phy
picture av Australia, illustratin' the fauna an' flora, with a tall,
thin tree beyont, showin' lack of vegetation in that tropic, an' a
little quilly cus they call a ornithorynchus, its mouth like Jim
Conlow's? Well, no kangaroo'd had enough self-respect to follow me that
night. I caught Marjie just in time, an' I puts off before her toward
her home. At the corner I quit kangarooin' an' walks quick an' a little
timid-like, just Marjie to a dimple. If you'd been there, you'd wanted
to put some more pink flowers round where they'd do the most good."

I squeezed his hand.

"Quit that, you ugly bear. That's a lady's hand yet a whoile an' can't
stand too much pressure.

"It was to save her loife, Phil." O'mie spoke solemnly now. "You could
save the town. I couldn't. I could save her. You couldn't. In a minute,
there in the dark by the gate, Jean Pahusca grabs me round me dainty
waist. His horse was ready by him an' he swung me into the saddle, not
harsh, but graceful like, an' gintle. I never said a word, but gave a
awful gasp like I hadn't no words, appreciative enough. 'I'm saving'
you, Star-face,' he says. 'The Copperheads will burn your mother's house
an' the Kiowas will come and steal Star-face--' an' he held me close as
if he would protect me--he got over that later--an' I properly fainted.
That's the only way the abducted princess can do in the novel--just
faint. It saves hearin' what you don't want to know. An' me size just
suited the case. Don't never take on airs, you big hulkin' fellow. No
graceful prince is iver goin' to haul you over the saddle-bow thinkin'
you're the choice av his heart. It saved Marjie, an' it got Jean clear
av town before he found his mistake, which wa'n't bad for Springvale.
Down by Fingal's Creek I come to, an' we had a rumpus. Bein' a dainty
girl, I naturally objected to goin' into that swirlin' water, though I
didn't object to Jean's goin'--to eternity. In the muss I lost me
cloak--the badge av me business there. I never could do nothin' wid thim
cussed hooks an' eyes on a collar an' the thing wasn't anchored
securely at me throat. It was awful then. I can't remember it all. But
it was dark, and Jean had found me out, and the waters was deep and
swift. The horse got away on the bank an' slid back, I think. It must
have been then it galloped up to town; but findin' Jean didn't follow,
it came back to him. I didn't know annything fur some toime. I'd got
too much av Fingal's Creek mix