It was the second day after my arrival at Five–Bob. Lunch was over, and we had adjourned1 to the veranda2. Miss Beecham was busy at her work-table; I was ensconced on a mat on the floor reading a book; Harold was stretched in a squatter3’s chair some distance away. His big brown hands were clasped behind his head, his chin rested on his broad chest, his eyes were closed, he occasionally thrust his lower lip forward and sent a puff4 of breath upwards5 to scatter6 the flies from his face; he looked a big monument of comfort, and answered his aunt’s remarks lazily:
“Yes, aunt, I’ll do my best;” and to me, “Miss Melvyn, while here, please bear in mind that it will be no end of pleasure to me to do anything for your enjoyment7. Don’t fail to command me in any way.”
“Thank you, Mr Beecham. I will not fail to avail myself of your offer.”
“The absurdity8 of you two children addressing each other so formally,” said Miss Beecham. “Why, you are a sort of cousins almost, by right of old friendship between the families. You must call me aunt.”
After this Mr Beecham and I called each other nothing when in Miss Beecham’s hearing, but adhered to formality on other occasions.
Harold looked so comfortable and lazy that I longed to test how far he meant the offer he had made me.
“I’m just dying for a row on the river. Would you oblige me?” I said.
“Just look at the thermometer!” exclaimed Miss Augusta. “Wait till it gets cooler, child.”
“Oh, I love the heat!” I replied. “And I am sure it won’t hurt his lordship. He’s used to the sun, to judge from all appearances.”
“Yes, I don’t think it can destroy my complexion,” he said good-humouredly, rubbing his finger and thumb along his stubble-covered chin. The bushmen up-country shaved regularly every Sunday morning, but never during the week for anything less than a ball. They did this to obviate9 the blue — what they termed “scraped pig”— appearance of the faces of city men in the habit of using the razor daily, and to which they preferred the stubble of a seven-days’ beard. “I’ll take you to the river in half an hour,” he said, rising from his seat. “First I must stick on one of Warrigal’s shoes that he’s flung. I want him tomorrow, and must do it at once, as he always goes lame10 if ridden immediately after shoeing.”
“Shall I blow the bellows11?” I volunteered.
“Oh no, thanks. I can manage myself. It would be better though if I had some one. But I can get one of the girls.”
“Can’t you get one of the boys?” said his aunt.
“There’s not one in. I sent every one off to the Triangle paddock today to do some drafting. They all took their quart pots and a snack in their saddle-bags, and won’t be home till dark.”
“Let me go,” I persisted; “I often blow the bellows for uncle Jay–Jay, and think it great fun.”
The offer of my services being accepted, we set out.
Harold took his favourite horse, Warrigal, from the stable, and led him to the blacksmith’s forge under an open, stringybark-roofed shed, nearly covered with creepers. He lit a fire and put a shoe in it. Doffing12 his coat and hat, rolling up his shirt-sleeves, and donning a leather apron13, he began preparing the horse’s hoof14.
When an emergency arose that necessitated15 uncle Jay–Jay shoeing his horses himself. I always manipulated the bellows, and did so with great decorum, as he was very exacting16 and I feared his displeasure. In this case it was different. I worked the pole with such energy that it almost blew the whole fire out of the pan, and sent the ashes and sparks in a whirlwind around Harold. The horse — a touchy17 beast — snorted and dragged his foot from his master’s grasp.
“That the way to blow?” I inquired demurely18.
“Take things a little easier,” he replied.
I took them so very easily that the fire was on the last gasp19 and the shoe nearly cold when it was required.
“This won’t do,” said Beecham.
I recommenced blowing with such force that he had to retreat.
“Steady I steady!” he shouted.
“Sure O’i can’t plaze yez anyhows,” I replied.
“If you don’t try to plaze me directly I’ll punish you in a way you won’t relish,” he said laughingly. But I knew he was thinking of a punishment which I would have secretly enjoyed.
“If you don’t let me finish this work I’ll make one of the men do it tonight by candle-light when they come home tired. I know you wouldn’t like them to do that,” he continued.
“Arrah, go on, ye’re only tazin’!” I retorted. “Don’t you remember telling me that Warrigal was such a nasty-tempered brute20 that he allowed no one but yourself to touch him?”
“Oh well, then, I’m floored, and will have to put up with the consequences,” he good-humouredly made answer.
Seeing that my efforts to annoy him failed, I gave in, and we were soon done, and then started for the river — Mr Beecham clad in a khaki suit and I in a dainty white wrapper and flyaway sort of hat. In one hand my host held a big white umbrella, with which he shaded me from the hot rays of the October sun, and in the other was a small basket containing cake and lollies for our delectation.
Having traversed the half-mile between the house and river, we pushed off from the bank in a tiny boat just big enough for two. In the teeth of Harold’s remonstrance22 I persisted in dangling23 over the boat-side to dabble24 in the clear, deep, running water. In a few minutes we were in it. Being unable to swim, but for my companion it would have been all up with me. When I rose to the surface he promptly25 seized me, and without much effort, clothes and all, swam with me to the bank, where we landed — a pair of sorry figures. Harold had mud all over his nose, and in general looked very ludicrous. As soon as I could stand I laughed.
“Oh, for a snapshot of you!” I said.
“We might have both been drowned,” he said sternly.
“Mights don’t fly,” I returned. “And it was worth the dip to see you looking such a comical article.” We were both minus our hats.
His expression relaxed.
“I believe you would laugh at your own funeral. If I look queer, you look forty times worse. Run for your life and get a hot bath and a drop of spirits or you’ll catch your death of cold. Aunt Augusta will take a fit and tie you up for the rest of the time in case something more will happen to you.”
“Catch a death of cold!” I ejaculated. “It is only good, pretty little girls, who are a blessing26 to everyone, who die for such trifles; girls like I am always live till nearly ninety, to plague themselves and everybody else. I’ll sneak27 home so that your aunt won’t see me, and no one need be a bit the wiser.”
“You’ll be sun-struck!” he said in dismay.
“Take care you don’t get daughter-struck,” I said perkily, turning to flee, for it had suddenly dawned upon me that my thin wet clothing was outlining my figure rather too clearly for propriety28.
By a circuitous29 way I managed to reach my bedroom unseen. It did not take me long to change my clothes, hang them to dry, and appear on the main veranda where Miss Augusta was still sewing. I picked up the book I had left on the mat, and, taking up a position in a hammock near her, I commenced to read.
“You did not stay long at the river,” she remarked. “Have you been washing your head? I never saw the like of it. Such a mass of it. It will take all day to dry.”
Half an hour later Harold appeared dressed in a warm suit of tweed. He was looking pale and languid, as though he had caught a chill, and shivered as he threw himself on a lounge. I was feeling none the worse for my immersion30.
“Why did you change your clothes, Harold? You surely weren’t cold on a day like this. Sybylla has changed hers too, when I come to notice it, and her hair is wet. Have you had an accident?” said Miss Augusta, rising from her chair in a startled manner.
“Rubbish!” ejaculated Harold in a tone which forbade further questioning, and the matter dropped.
She presently left the veranda, and I took the opportunity to say, “It is yourself that requires the hot bath and a drop of spirits, Mr Beecham.”
“Yes; I think I’ll take a good stiff nobbler. I feel a trifle squeamish. It gave me a bit of a turn when I rose to the top and could not see you. I was afraid the boat might have stunned31 you in capsizing, and you would be drowned before I could find you.”
“Yes; I would have been such a loss to the world in general if I had been drowned,” I said satirically.
Several jackeroos, a neighbouring squatter, and a couple of bicycle tourists turned up at Five–Bob that evening, and we had a jovial32 night. The great, richly furnished drawing-room was brilliantly lighted, and the magnificent Erard grand piano sang and rang again with music, now martial33 and loud, now soft and solemn, now gay and sparkling. I made the very pleasant discovery that Harold Beecham was an excellent pianist, a gifted player on the violin, and sang with a strong, clear, well-trained tenor34, which penetrated35 far into the night. How many, many times I have lived those nights over again! The great room with its rich appointments, the superb piano, the lights, the merriment, the breeze from the east, rich with the heavy intoxicating36 perfume of countless37 flowers; the tall perfect figure, holding the violin with a master hand, making it speak the same language as I read in the dark eyes of the musician, while above and around was the soft warmth of an Australian summer night.
Ah, health and wealth, happiness and youth, joy and light, life and love! What a warm-hearted place is the world, how full of pleasure, good, and beauty, when fortune smiles! When fortune smiles!
Fortune did smile, and broadly, in those days. We played tricks on one another, and had a deal of innocent fun and frolic. I was a little startled one night on retiring to find a huge goanna near the head of my bed. I called Harold to dislodge the creature, when it came to light that it was roped to the bedpost. Great was the laughter at my expense. Who tethered the goanna I never discovered, but I suspected Harold. In return for this joke, I collected all the portable clocks in the house — about twenty — and arrayed them on his bedroom table. The majority of them were Waterburys for common use, so I set each alarm for a different hour. Inscribing38 a placard “Hospital for Insane”, I erected39 it above his door. Next morning I was awakened40 at three o’clock by fifteen alarms in concert outside my door. When an hour or two later I emerged I found a notice on my door, “This way to the Zoo”.
It was a very busy time for the men at Five–Bob. Waggons41 were arriving with shearing42 supplies, for it was drawing nigh unto the great event of the year. In another week’s time the bleat43 of thousands of sheep, and the incense44 of much tar21 and wool, would be ascending45 to the heavens from the vicinity of Five–Bob Downs. I was looking forward to the shearing. There never was any at Caddagat. Uncle did not keep many sheep, and always sold them long-woolled and rebought after shearing.
I had not much opportunity of persecuting46 Harold during the daytime. He and all his subordinates were away all day, busy drafting, sorting, and otherwise pottering with sheep. But I always, and Miss Augusta sometimes, went to meet them coming home in the evening. It was great fun. The dogs yelped47 and jumped about. The men were dirty with much dust, and smelt48 powerfully of sheep, and had worked hard all day in the blazing sun, but they were never too tired for fun, or at night to dance, after they had bathed and dressed. We all had splendid horses. They reared and pranced49; we galloped50 and jumped every log which came in our path. Jokes, repartee51, and nonsense rattled52 off our tongues. We did not worry about thousands of our fellows — starving and reeking53 with disease in city slums. We were selfish. We were heedless. We were happy. We were young.
Harold Beecham was a splendid host. Anyone possessed54 of the least talent for enjoyment had a pleasant time as his guest. He was hospitable55 in a quiet unostentatious manner. His overseer, jackeroos, and other employees were all allowed the freedom of home, and could invite whom they pleased to Five–Bob Downs. It is all very well to talk of good hosts. Bah, I could be a good hostess myself if I had Harold Beecham’s superior implements56 of the art! With an immense station, plenty of house-room, tennis courts, musical instruments; a river wherein to fish, swim, and boat; any number of horses, vehicles, orchards57, gardens, guns, and ammunition58 no object, it is easy to be a good host.
I had been just a week at Five–Bob when uncle Julius came to take me home, so I missed the shearing. Caddagat had been a dull hole without me, he averred59, and I must return with him that very day. Mr and Miss Beecham remonstrated60. Could I not be spared at least a fortnight longer? It would be lonely without me. Thereupon uncle Jay–Jay volunteered to procure61 Miss Benson from Wyambeet as a substitute. Harold declined the offer with thanks.
“The schemes of youngsters are very transparent,” said uncle Jay–Jay and Miss Augusta, smiling significantly at us. I feigned62 to be dense63, but Harold smiled as though the insinuation was not only known, but also agreeable to him.
Uncle was inexorable, so home I had to go. It was sweet to me to hear from the lips of my grandmother and aunt that my absence had been felt.
As a confidante aunt Helen was the pink of perfection — tactful and sympathetic. My feather-brained chatter64 must often have bored her, but she apparently65 was ever interested in it.
I told her long yarns66 of how I had spent my time at the Beechams; of the deafening67 duets Harold and I had played on the piano; and how he would persist in dancing with me, and he being so tall and broad, and I so small, it was like being stretched on a hay-rack, and very fatiguing68. I gave a graphic69 account of the arguments — tough ones they were too — that Miss Augusta had with the overseer on religion, and many other subjects; of one jackeroo who gabbed70 never-endingly about his great relations at home; another who incessantly71 clattered72 about spurs, whips, horses, and sport; and the third one — Joe Archer73 — who talked literature and trash with me.
“What was Harry74 doing all this time?” asked auntie. “What did he say?”
Harold had been present all the while, yet I could not call to mind one thing he had said. I cannot remember him ever holding forth75 on a subject or cause, as most people do at one time or another.
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1
adjourned
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| （使）休会， （使）休庭( adjourn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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squatter
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| n.擅自占地者 | |
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puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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obviate
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| v.除去，排除，避免，预防 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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bellows
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| n.风箱；发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的名词复数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的第三人称单数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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doffing
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| n.下筒，落纱v.脱去，（尤指）脱帽( doff的现在分词 ) | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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necessitated
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| 使…成为必要，需要( necessitate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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touchy
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| adj.易怒的；棘手的 | |
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demurely
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| adv.装成端庄地，认真地 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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tar
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| n.柏油，焦油；vt.涂或浇柏油/焦油于 | |
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remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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dabble
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| v.涉足，浅赏 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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circuitous
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| adj.迂回的路的，迂曲的，绕行的 | |
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immersion
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| n.沉浸；专心 | |
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stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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intoxicating
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| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
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countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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inscribing
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的现在分词 ) | |
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39
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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40
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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41
waggons
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| 四轮的运货马车( waggon的名词复数 )； 铁路货车； 小手推车 | |
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42
shearing
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| n.剪羊毛，剪取的羊毛v.剪羊毛( shear的现在分词 )；切断；剪切 | |
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43
bleat
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| v.咩咩叫，(讲)废话，哭诉；n.咩咩叫，废话，哭诉 | |
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44
incense
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| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
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45
ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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46
persecuting
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| （尤指宗教或政治信仰的）迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的现在分词 )； 烦扰，困扰或骚扰某人 | |
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47
yelped
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| v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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49
pranced
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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50
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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51
repartee
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| n.机敏的应答 | |
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52
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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53
reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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54
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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55
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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56
implements
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| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
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57
orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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59
averred
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| v.断言( aver的过去式和过去分词 )；证实；证明…属实；作为事实提出 | |
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60
remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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61
procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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62
feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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64
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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65
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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66
yarns
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| n.纱( yarn的名词复数 )；纱线；奇闻漫谈；旅行轶事 | |
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67
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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68
fatiguing
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| a.使人劳累的 | |
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69
graphic
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| adj.生动的，形象的，绘画的，文字的，图表的 | |
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70
gabbed
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| v.空谈，唠叨，瞎扯( gab的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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72
clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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73
archer
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| n.射手，弓箭手 | |
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74
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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75
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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