the coast was clear, out he came and made off to the bush.
I had a special tidy-up that morning, and put fresh greenery on the mantel, and made our place as smart as possible, for we were expecting visitors. Then I got ready to give our guests lunch; put the billy to boil, and had just finished when Transome watching the ford through glasses, announced a buggy and pair were at the crossing. We soon were welcoming our friends from Russell’s Flat. They had brought the baby, and were very ready to share our lunch: tea, of course, was ready; chicken-and-tongue shape, fresh scones, preserved pears, and other delicacies were set out on the table—and they did full justice to all.
They left us later to go on and see Mrs. Macpherson, laughing at the idea it was too bad a track for a buggy! They told us if we would cross the river we should find quantities of fruit run wild, and this we accordingly did, riding some four miles down the river-bed, and then dismounting, roamed about where once had been a homestead. The house was gone, the fences had mostly fallen, the raspberries in the garden formed an impenetrable thicket, into which we broke our way with difficulty. There were both red and white raspberries—beautiful fruit. Gooseberries of all kinds abounded, and currants, too; but the loveliest sight of all was a cherry tree, so covered with bright red fruit shining in the sun that it almost hid the leaves.
Here we spent the long hot afternoon, and when
