'"Get your dinner, Bobbie," she said, after she'd slobbered over him a bit, "and then get dressed and come with me and get married!"
'She was about three time his age, and had a face like that picture of a lady over Sappho Smith's letters in the Sydney Bulletin.
'Well, Bobbie went with her like a―like a lamb; never gave a kick or tried to clear.'
'Hold on,' said Mitchell, 'Did you ever shear lambs?'
'Never mind. Let me finish the yarn. Bobbie was married; but she wouldn't let him out of her sight all that afternoon, and he had to put up with her before them all. About bedtime he sneaked out and started along the passage to his room that he shared with two or three mates. But she'd her eye on him.
'"Bobbie, Bobbie!" she says, "Where are you going?"
'"I'm going to bed," said Bobbie. "Good night!"
'"Bobbie, Bobbie," she says, sharply. "That isn't our room; this is our room, Bobbie. Come back at once! What do you mean, Bobbie? Do you hear me, Bobbie?"
'So Bobbie came back, and went in with the scarecrow. Next morning she was first at the breakfast table, in a dressing gown and curl papers. And when they were all sitting down Bobbie sneaked in, looking awfully sheepish, and sidled for his chair at the other end of the table. But she'd her eyes on him.
'"Bobbie, Bobbie!" she said, "Come and kiss me, Bobbie!"
'And he had to do it in front of them all.
'But I believe she made him a good wife.'
D
