e
thankful."

"Don't fear for me, father," the daughter said, with an expressive
glance at the brawny form of Smith, which seemed to say that he is
"strong enough to take care of me in this world of trouble."

"But I do care for you, for who else have I to love in this world?"
answered the stockman, wiping away a tear.

"And will you not let another share that love?" she said, fondling his
gray hairs, as though she had just awakened to a sense of his worth.

"What do you mean, girl?" he demanded, with a suspicious glance at her
face, which was suffused with blushes.

"I mean," she replied, coloring with contusion, "that if a suitor
should present himself, would you not be willing that I should marry
again?"

"You have just lost one husband, and who thinks of whispering nonsense
in your ears? Not these young gallants, I hope, for they never would be
willing to introduce you to their homes; and if they mean false, the old
gun is still capable of sending a bullet as true as the day that I took
it from a bushranger for killing my sheep."

"O, no, father; the young gentlemen have hardly spoken to me, and if I
should wait for them to make love, I should never be married."

"Then who has caught your fancy, and made you feel as though you wished
to desert your old father?" demanded the old convict, sternly.

"Not to desert you, father, for you shall come and live with us, and
give up your shepherd's occupation. The work is too hard and dangerous
for one of your years, and if you wish to make money the city offers
larger inducements."

"I don't understand all of this," cried the old man, wiping his brow,
and staring at us as though he wished we would explain. "You want me to
live with you, yet when, and where, I am left to conjecture."

"He will tell you all," cried the daughter, breaking away and entering
the hut, her face nearly as red as Smith's, and the latter's seemed as
though burning. He cast an imploring glance towards me, and I helped him
out of the dilemma as well as I was able.

"A man whom you might well be proud to call son-in-law has taken a fancy
to your daughter, and seeks to make her his wife. The match in one that
you can't help approving, for he is able to support her and be a kind
husband. What more can you ask for?"

"I ask for the name of the person, and you confuse me with a torrent of
praise," exclaimed the old man, testily.

"Here he is to speak for himself," I said, leading Smith up. "T