e--and the structure looks as if it
wants to lie down and is only prevented by three crooked props on the
leaning side; more props will soon be needed in the rear for the dairy
shows signs of going in that direction. The milk is set in dishes made
of kerosene-tins, cut in halves, which are placed on bark shelves fitted
round against the walls. The shelves are not level and the dishes are
brought to a comparatively horizontal position by means of chips and
bits of bark, inserted under the lower side. The milk is covered by
soiled sheets of old newspapers supported on sticks laid across the
dishes. This protection is necessary, because the box bark in the roof
has crumbled away and left fringed holes--also because the fowls roost
up there. Sometimes the paper sags, and the cream may have to be scraped
off an article on dairy farming.

The selector's wife removes the newspapers, and reveals a thick, yellow
layer of rich cream, plentifully peppered with dust that has drifted in
somehow. She runs a forefinger round the edges of the cream to detach it
from the tin, wipes her finger in her mouth, and skims. If the milk and
cream are very thick she rolls the cream over like a pancake with her
fingers, and lifts it out in sections. The thick milk is poured into a
slop-bucket, for the pigs and calves, the dishes are "cleaned"--by the
aid of a dipper full of warm water and a rag--and the wife proceeds
to set the morning's milk. Tom holds up the doubtful-looking rag that
serves as a strainer while his mother pours in the milk. Sometimes the
boy's hands get tired and he lets some of the milk run over, and gets
into trouble; but it doesn't matter much, for the straining-cloth has
several sizable holes in the middle.

The door of the dairy faces the dusty road and is off its hinges and has
to be propped up. The prop is missing this morning, and Tommy is accused
of having been seen chasing old Poley with it at an earlier hour. He
never seed the damn prop, never chased no cow with it, and wants to know
what's the use of always accusing him. He further complains that he's
always blamed for everything. The pole is not forthcoming, and so an old
dray is backed against the door to keep it in position. There is more
trouble about a cow that is lost, and hasn't been milked for two days.
The boy takes the cows up to the paddock sliprails and lets the top rail
down: the lower rail fits rather tightly and some exertion is
required to free it, s