half a dozen currants from his pocket. "I shouldn't think you'd
mind, with such a lot; we only have a bottleful at home."

On which the old lady patted his head, unlocked a tin, and filled
his hands with figs and dates.

"And have you to cook every day, for all those men?" Meg said,
wondering what oven could be found large enough.

"Dear, no!" the old lady answered. "Dear, dear, no; each man
does everything for himself in his own hut; they don't even get
bread, only rations of flour to make damper for themselves. Then
we give them a fixed, quantity of meat, tea, sugar, tobacco,
candles, soap, and one or two other things."

"Where do you keep the wool and things?" said Pip, who had a soul
above home-made soap and metal dips for candles; "I can't see any
shed or anything."

Mrs. Hassal told him they were a mile away, down by the creek,
where the sheep were washed and sheared at the proper season. But
the heat was too much to make even Pip want to go just then, so they
attached themselves to Mr. Hassal, leaving little grandma with
Esther, the General, and Baby, and went over to the brick stables
near.

There were three or four buggies under cover, but no horses at all,
they were farther afield. Across the paddock they went, and up the
hill. Half a dozen answered Mr. Hassal's strange whistle; the
others were wild, unbroken things, that tossed their manes and fled