ACT IV
About a year afterwards—Mr. Polyblock in library, also Mr. Gayters.
Mr. P. (walks up and down). Well, I feel regularly stumped and dried out. Haven't felt so bad since the '68 drought. I don't know what's comin' over the country. This young Colonial experiencer stands up agin' me like a bulldog ant in front of a team of bullocks! My gal, Dulcie, as I've spent thousands on—and where's there a gal like her, high or low?—is turned that stupid and ungrateful that she's crying her eyes out; and who for? Why, a low feller with only a half-section of land to his name—worse than a boundary-rider, I call him! Damme! I'll dummy all round him—eat him up that close that he won't have grass for a bandicoot. I'm that miserable as I could go and drownd myself in that creek afore the door. Blast that infernal Land Act and them as made it! It'll ruin the country and every man of property in it. Well (turns angrily to Gayters), what do you want?
Gayters (hesitatingly). Mr. Overdew has just sent his reporter for ten thousand sheep, sir; wants to know if you'll let him take them through the Run, along the back track.
Mr. P. (with concentrated wrath). Tell him if he dares to go one yard off his half-mile from the main-frontage road I'll pound every hoof of his grass-stealin', hungry, loafin' sheep, as is the dead image of their owner—if he does own 'em, and not the bank. Tell him that, and mind you shepherd him slap through the boundary gate.
Gayters. Of course, sir; cert'nly, sir. Anything else, sir?
Mr. P. (with sudden fury). Only, you stand gapin' there another minute and I'll knock yer through my study winder!
Gayters. Cert'nly, sir; of course, sir.
Egremont on his selection, discovered chopping down a tree.
(Speaks.) I am more than ever confirmed in my opinion that this is the most extraordinary, puzzling, topsy-turvy country in the whole world. I might just as well have remained
