Mates at Billabong by Mary Grant Bruce
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page 4 of 260 (01%)
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showing by his restlessness that he despised a lazy life, and longed
for action. He caught his mistress's eye at last, and jumped up with a little whine. "If YOU had the heel of a sock to turn, Puck," said Norah, "you'd be more steady. Lie down, old man." Puck lay down again discontentedly, put his nose on his paws, and feigned slumber, one restless eyelid betraying the hollowness of the pretence. Presently he rolled over--and chancing to roll on a spiky twig, rose with a wild yelp of annoyance. Across Norah's laugh came a stock-whip crack; and the collie came to life suddenly, and sprang up, as impatient as the terrier. Norah slipped out of the hammock. "There's Dad!" she said. "Come along!" She was tall for her fourteen years, and very slender--"scraggy," Jim was wont to say, with the cheerful frankness of brothers. Norah bore the epithet meekly--she held the view that it was better to be dead than fat. There was something boyish in the straight, slim figure in the blue linen frock--perhaps the quality was also to be found in a frank manner that was the product of years of the Bush and open-air life. The grey eyes were steady, and met those of others with a straight level glance; the mouth was a little firm-set for her years, but the child was revealed when it broke into smiles--and Norah was rarely grave. No human power had yet been discovered to keep in order the brown curls. Their distressed owner tied them back firmly with a wide ribbon each morning; but the ribbon generally was missing early in the day, and might be replaced with anything that came handy--possibly a fragment of red tape from the office, or a bit of a New Zealand flax leaf, or haply |
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