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Rudd, Steele, 1868-1935

"On Our Selection"

At last Dad
thought he saw through him. He bravely stood up and looked hard at the
others. They took the hint and rose clumsily to their feet, but just then
the hymn closed, and, as no one seemed to know when to sit again, they
remained standing.
They were standing when a loud whip-crack sounded close to the house, and
a lusty voice roared:
"Wah Tumbler! Wah Tumbler! Gee back, Brandy! Gee back,
you----!----!!----!!!"
People smiled. Then a team of bullocks appeared on the road. The driver
drawled, "Wa-a-a-y!" and the team stopped right in front of the door.
The driver lifted something weighty from the dray and struggled to the
verandah with it and dropped it down. It was a man. The bullock-driver,
of course, did n't know that a religious service was being conducted
inside, and the chances are he did n't much care. He only saw a number of
faces looking out, and talked at them.
"I've a ---- cove here," he said, "that I found lying on the ---- plain.
Gawd knows what's up with him--I don't. A good square feed is about what
he wants, I reckon." Then he went back for the man's swag.
Dad, after hesitating, rose and went out. The others followed like a
flock of sheep; and the "shepherd" brought up the rear.


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