old Beecham with an expression on
his face that startled me.

"Your aunt sent me on with your hood," he said jerkily.

"You can wear it--I've been promoted," I said flippantly, raising my
head-gear to him and bowing. He did not laugh as he usually did at my
tricks, but frowned darkly instead.

"We've been carving our names--at least, I have," remarked Goodchum.

Harold tossed my sun-bonnet on the ground, and said shortly, "Come on,
Goodchum, we must be going."

"Oh, don't go, Mr Beecham. I thought you came on purpose for my birthday
tea. Auntie has made me a tremendous cake. You must stay. We never dreamt
of you doing anything else."

"I've changed my mind," he replied, striding on at such a pace that we
had difficulty in keeping near him. As we resumed our own head-wear,
Good churn whispered, "A bulldog ant must have stung the boss. Let's ask
him."

On reaching the house we found other company had arrived in the persons
of young Mr Goodjay from Cummabella, his sister, her governess, and a
couple of jackeroos. They were seated on the veranda, and uncle Jay-Jay,
attired in his shirt-sleeves, was appearing through the dining-room door
with half a dozen bottles of home-made ginger ale in his arms. Dumping
them down on the floor, he produced a couple of tots from his
shirt-pockets, saying, "Who votes for a draw of beer? Everyone must feel
inclined for a swig. Harry, you want some; you don't look as though the
heat was good for your temper. Hullo, Archie! Got up this far. Take a
draw out of one of these bottles. If there had been a dozen pubs on the
road, I'd have drunk every one of em dry today. I never felt such a daddy
of a thirst on me before."

"Good gracious, Julius!" exclaimed grannie, as he offered the governess a
pot full of beer, "Miss Craddock can't drink out of that pint."

"Those who don't approve of my pints, let 'em bring their own," said
that mischievous uncle Jay-Jay, who was a great hand at acting the clown
when he felt that way inclined.

I was dispatched for glasses, and after emptying the bottles uncle
proposed a game of tennis first, while the light lasted, and tea
afterwards. This proposition being carried with acclamation, we proceeded
to the tennis court. Harold came too--he had apparently altered his
intention of going home immediately.

There were strawberries to be had in the orchard, also some late
cherries, so uncle ordered me to go and get some. I procured a basket,
and willingly