yer sweetheart? Sure he's as fine a
man as iver I clapped me eyes on."

I proceeded to give his pedigree, but was interrupted by the arrival of
the preacher, and we all went into the weatherboard iron-roofed house of
prayer.

After service, one of the girls came up to me and whispered, '11at is
your sweetheart, isn't it, Sybyller? He was looking at you all the time
in church."

"Oh dear, no! I'll introduce him to you."

I did so, and watched him as they made remarks about the heat and
drought. There was nothing of the cad or snob about him, and his short
season of adversity had rubbed all the little crudities off his
character, leaving him a man that the majority of both sexes would
admire: women for his bigness, his gentleness, his fine brown
moustache--and for his wealth; men, because he was a manly fellow.

I know he had walked to church on purpose to get a chance of speaking to
me about Gertie, before approaching her parents on the matter; but
Stanley accompanied us, and, boy-like, never relaxed in vigilance for an
instant, so there was no opportunity for anything but matter-of-fact
remarks. The heat was intense. We wiped the perspiration and flies from
our face frequently, and disturbed millions of grasshoppers as we walked.
They had devoured all the fruit in the orchards about, and had even
destroyed many of the trees by eating the bark, and now they were
stripping the briers of foliage. In one orchard we passed, the apricot,
plum, and peach-stones hung naked on their leafless trees as evidence of
their ravages. It was too hot to indulge in any but the most desultory
conversation. We dawdled along. A tiger-snake crossed our path. Harold
procured a stick and killed it, and Stanley hung it on the top wire of a
fence which was near at hand. After this we discussed snakes for a few
yards.

A blue sea-breeze, redolent of the bush-fires which were raging at
Tocumwal and Bombala, came rushing and roaring over the ranges from the
cast, and enshrouded the scene in its heavy fog-like folds. The sun was
obscured, and the temperature suddenly took such a great drop that I felt
chilled in my flimsy clothing, and I noticed Harold draw his coat
together.

Stanley had to go after the cows, which were little better than walking
hides, yet were yarded morning and evening to yield a dribble of milk. He
left us among some sallie-trees, in a secluded nook, walled in by briers,
and went across the paddock to roundup the cows.