forty pounds, Mrs. Hassal thought when questioned.

Bunty whipped up a handful and pocketed them when everyone was
looking at the mountain of candles.

"Home-made! my DEAR, why, yes, of course," the old lady said.
"Why, I wouldn't dream of using a bought candle, any more than
I would use bought soap."

She showed them the great bars of yellow, clean-smelling stuff,
with finer, paler-coloured for toilet purposes.

Hams and sides of bacon hung thickly from the rafters. "Those are
mutton hams," she said, pointing to one division. "I keep those
for the stockmen."

Pip wanted to know if the stores were meant to serve them all their
lives, there seemed enough of them: he was astonished to hear that
every six months they were replenished.

"Twenty to thirty men, counting the boundary riders and stockmen
at different parts of the place; and double that number at shearing
or drafting times, not to mention daily sundowners--it's like feeding
an army, my dears," she said; "and then, you see, I had to make
preparations for all of you--Bunty especially."

Her little grey eyes twinkled merrily as she looked at that small
youth.

"You can have them back," Bunty said, half sulkily. He produced