a
bit, 'and then get dressed and come with me and get married!'

"She was about three times his age, and had a face like that picture of
a lady over Sappho Smith's letters in the Sydney _Bulletin_.

"Well, Bobbie went with her like a--like a lamb; never gave a kick or
tried to clear."

"Hold on," said Mitchell, "did you ever shear lambs?"

"Never mind. Let me finish the yarn. Bobbie was married; but she
wouldn't let him out of her sight all that afternoon, and he had to put
up with her before them all. About bedtime he sneaked out and started
along the passage to his room that he shared with two or three mates.
But she'd her eye on him.

"'Bobbie, Bobbie!' she says, 'Where are you going?'

"'I'm going to bed,' said Bobbie. 'Good night!'

"'Bobbie, Bobbie,' she says, sharply. 'That isn't our room; _this_ is
our room, Bobbie. Come back at once! What do you mean, Bobbie? _Do you
hear me, Bobbie?_'

"So Bobbie came back, and went in with the scarecrow. Next morning she
was first at the breakfast table, in a dressing-gown and curl papers.
And when they were all sitting down Bobbie sneaked in, looking awfully
sheepish, and sidled for his chair at the other end of the table. But
she'd her eyes on him.

"'Bobbie, Bobbie!' she said, 'Come and kiss me, Bobbie!'" And he had to
do it in front of them all.

"But I believe she made him a good wife."

HIS COUNTRY-AFTER ALL

The Blenheim coach was descending into the valley of the Avetere
River--pronounced Aveterry--from the saddle of Taylor's Pass. Across
the river to the right, the grey slopes and flats stretched away to
the distant sea from a range of tussock hills. There was no native bush
there; but there were several groves of imported timber standing wide
apart---sentinel-like--seeming lonely and striking in their isolation.

"Grand country, New Zealand, eh?" said a stout man with a brown face,
grey beard, and grey eyes, who sat between the driver and another
passenger on the box.

"You don't call this grand country!" exclaimed the other passenger, who
claimed to be, and looked like, a commercial traveller, and might have
been a professional spieler--quite possibly both. "Why, it's about the
poorest country in New Zealand! You ought to see some of the country in
the North Island--Wairarapa and Napier districts, round about Pahiatua.
I call this damn poor country."

"Well, I reckon you wouldn't, if you'd ever been in Australia--back in
New South Wales