art,' she said. 'You want to get home early with
that boy.'

I got down and went round to where she stood. I held out my hand and
tried to speak, but my voice went like an ungreased waggon wheel, and I
gave it up, and only squeezed her hand.

'That's all right,' she said; then tears came into her eyes, and she
suddenly put her hand on my shoulder and kissed me on the cheek. 'You be
off--you're only a boy yourself. Take care of that boy; be kind to your
wife, and take care of yourself.'

'Will you come to see us?'

'Some day,' she said.

I started the horses, and looked round once more. She was looking up at
Jim, who was waving his hand to her from the top of the load. And I saw
that haggard, hungry, hopeless look come into her eyes in spite of the
tears.

I smoothed over that story and shortened it a lot, when I told it to
Mary--I didn't want to upset her. But, some time after I brought Jim
home from Gulgong, and while I was at home with the team for a few days,
nothing would suit Mary but she must go over to Brighten's shanty and
see Brighten's sister-in-law. So James drove her over one morning in the
spring-cart: it was a long way, and they stayed at Brighten's overnight
and didn't get back till late the next afternoon. I'd got the place in a
pig-muck, as Mary said, 'doing for' myself, and I was having a snooze
on the sofa when they got back. The first thing I remember was some one
stroking my head and kissing me, and I heard Mary saying, 'My poor boy!
My poor old boy!'

I sat up with a jerk. I thought that Jim had gone off again. But it
seems that Mary was only referring to me. Then she started to pull grey
hairs out of my head and put 'em in an empty match-box--to see how many
she'd get. She used to do this when she felt a bit soft. I don't
know what she said to Brighten's sister-in-law or what Brighten's
sister-in-law said to her, but Mary was extra gentle for the next few
days.

'Water Them Geraniums'.

I. A Lonely Track.

The time Mary and I shifted out into the Bush from Gulgong to 'settle on
the land' at Lahey's Creek.

I'd sold the two tip-drays that I used for tank-sinking and dam-making,
and I took the traps out in the waggon on top of a small load of rations
and horse-feed that I was taking to a sheep-station out that way. Mary
drove out in the spring-cart. You remember we left little Jim with
his aunt in Gulgong till we got settled down. I'd sent James (Mary's
brother) out t