he means to do on that farm--Hawkins', isn't it? But I suppose
you don't take much interest in that sort of thing? Dances and frocks
more in your line--and chocolates, eh, what?"

"Then you've changed her in England," said Harry Trevor suddenly. "Is
it dances now, Norah? No more quick things over the grass after a
cross-grained bullock? Don't say you've forgotten how to use a
stockwhip!"

"It's hung up at Billabong," Norah said laughing. "But you wait until
I get back to it, that's all!"

"Dear me!" said Mrs. West. "And you do these wonderful things too! I
always longed to do them as a girl--to ride over long leagues of plain
on a fiery mustang, among your lovely eucalyptus trees. And do you
really go out with the cowboys, and use a lasso?"

"She does," said Harry, happily.

"Your wild animals, too," said Mrs. West. "It's kangaroos you ride
down with spears, is it not? And wallabies. We live in dear, quiet
little England, but we read all about your wonderful life, and are oh!
so interested."

"What a life!" said Dick Harrison, under his breath.

"Quite. You know, I had a great friend who went out as A.D.C. to one
of your Governors. He had to return after a month, because his father
died and he came into the baronetcy, but some day he means to write a
book on Australia. That is why I have always, as it were, kept in
touch with your great country. I seem to know it so well, though I
have never seen it."

"You do, indeed," said Blake gravely. "I wish we knew half as much
about yours."

"Ah, but you must let us show it to you. Is it not yours, too?
Outposts of Empire: that is what I call you: outposts of Empire. Is
it not that that brought you to fight under our flag?"

"Oh, rather," said Blake vaguely. "But a lot of us just wanted a look
in at the fun!"

"Well--you got a good deal for a start," said Garrett.

"Yes--Abdul gave us all we wanted on his little peninsula. But he's
not a bad fighting-man, old Abdul; we don't mind how often we take tea
with him. He's a better man to fight than Fritz."

"He could pretty easily be that," Garrett said. "It's one of the
worst grudges we owe Fritz--that he's taken all the decency out of
war. It used to be a man's game, but the Boche made it one according
to his own ideas--and everybody knows what they are."

"Yes," said Hardress. "I suppose the Boche will do a good deal of
crawling to get back among decent people after the war; but he'll