" CURSE you!" he hissed--"you black wretches of hell!"

"CAW, CAW, CAW"

He ran towards the tree as though he would hurl it to the ground, and away
flew the crows.

Joe arrived.

"W-w-wuz they at him, Dad?"

Dad turned on him, trembling with rage.

"Oh, YOU son of the Devil!" he commenced. "YOU worthless pup, you! Look
there! Do you see that?" (He pointed to the horse.) "Did n't I tell you
to mind him? Did n'--"

"Yes," snivelled Joe; "but Anderson's dog had a k-k-k-angaroo bailed up."

"DAMN you, be off out of this!" And Dad aimed a block of wood at Joe which
struck him on the back as he made away. But nothing short of two broken
legs would stop Joe, who the next instant had dashed among the corn like
an emu into a scrub.

Dad returned to the house, foaming and vowing to take the gun and shoot
Joe down like a wallaby. But when he saw two horses hanging up he
hesitated and would have gone away again had Mother not called out that he
was wanted. He went in reluctantly.

Red Donovan and his son, Mick, were there. Donovan was the publican,