"Well" (he drew close to her) "he's--he's MAD!"

"OH-H!"

"He IS. I seen 'im just now up in your paddick, an' he's clean off he's
pannikin."

Just then Dave came down the track whistling. Young Johnson saw him
and fled.

For some time Mother regarded Dave with grave suspicion, then she
questioned him closely.

"Yairs," he said, grinning hard, "I was goin' through th' FUST SET."

It was when Kate was married to Sandy Taylor that we realised what a
blessing it is to be able to dance. How we looked forward to that
wedding! We were always talking about it, and were very pleased it would
be held in our own house, because all of us could go then. None of us
could work for thinking of it--even Dad seemed to forget his troubles
about the corn and Mick Brennan's threat to summon him for half the fence.
Mother said we would want plenty of water for the people to drink, so
Sandy yoked his horse to the slide, and he, Dad, and Joe started for the
springs.

The slide was the fork of a tree, alias a wheel-less water-trolly. The
horse was hitched to the butt end, and a batten nailed across the prongs
kept the cask from slipping off going uphill. Sandy led the way and
carried the bucket; Dad went ahead to clear the track of stones; and Joe
straddled the cask to keep her steady.