frightened to dress the knots off o’ them. That was his idear, an’ he went through with it straight. ‘William,’ says he to me; ‘if I catch a oath out o’ your mouth, I’ll welt the (adj.) hide off o’ you;’ an’ many’s the time he done it. ‘Always show respect to an ole man or an ole woman,’ says he; ‘an’ never kick up a row with nobody; an’ when you see a row startin’, you strike in an’ squash it, for blessed be the peacemakers; an’ never you git drunk, nor yet laugh at a drunk man; an’ never take your Maker’s name in vain, or by (sheol) He’ll make it hot for you.’ That was my father’s style with me. Same with my sister. He used to lay a bit of a buggy-trace on the table, after supper: ‘There, Molly,’ says he; ‘that’s for girls as goes gallivantin’ about after night;’ an’ many’s the dose of it Molly got for flyin’ round in the moonlight. Consequently, as you might say, she growed up to be the best girl, an’ the cleverest, in the district. The other girls was weeds aside of her; she stood inches higher nor any o’ them, an’ she was a picter’ to look at. Strong as whalebone, she was, an’ not a lazy bone in her body. She was different from me in regard o’ learnin’, for she always liked to have her nose in a book, an’ she went a lot to school. An’ as for singin’ or playin’ anything in the shape o’ music—why, there was nobody about could hold a candle to her. She was fair mad on it; an’ my ole dad he sent her to Sydney for over a year o’ purpose to fetch her out. Peanner, or flute, or fiddle, or the curliest instrument out of a brass band, it was all one to her; it come sort o’ natural to her to fetch music out of anything. Pore Molly!” Cooper paused awhile before he resumed
“She never took up with none o’ the fellers. I knowed fellers try to kiss her; but her style was to stiffen them with a clip under the ear, an’ they sort o’ took the hint, an’ never come back. But by-’n’-by a man from the Queensland border, he bought the place next ours but one; an’ our two fam’lies got acquainted. Wonderful clever ole feller he was, in regard o’ findin’ out new gases, an’ smells, an’ cures for snake-bites, an’ stuff that would go off like a cannon if you looked at it. This cove had got one son an’ two daughters, an’ his missis was sickly. Well, the son he was a young chap, about my own age at the time”
“An’ how old was you then?” demanded Mosey.
“About two-an’-twenty. He seemed to be a fine, off-handed, straightforrid, well-edicated young feller; an’ me an’ him we soon got great cronies; an’ by-’n’-by I seen he was collared on Molly, an’ she was collared on him. Well, thank God! he’s got a curse on him that he won’t get rid of in a hurry. Thank God for that much!”
“Ruined her?” queried Mosey briskly.
Cooper passed the question with unconscious dignity, and resumed. “Things went on this way for a couple o’ year; an’ this feller’s people was agreeable; an’, to make a long story short, the time was fixed for two months on ahead.”
“Your father was agreeable, of course?” said Thompson.
“He was dead,” replied Cooper reverently. “Gone to eternity, I hope. He deserved to go there if ever any livin’ man did. He died about a year after these people come to settle near our place.”
