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CHAPTER XXII.
HOW TOM WON A RACE.
Two or three years had elapsed since the emigrants trooped over the hills and sought their rest in Mimosa Vale. Each anniversary of the Hegira was commemorated by two days' high festival.
The sky on the present occasion was cloudless; so rare and transparent the air, that the vines on the terraced slopes about the red-brick walls stood out as though a few hundred yards away. At six o'clock in the morning a special service was conducted in the church for those who cared to attend. The entire community was represented, largely out of respect for the settler parson. The doctor read the lessons; the Bishop of the Campaspe, who had come the night before to take part in the festival, preached.
"Two are better than one, and a threefold cord is not quickly broken," was the text from which the good man educed lessons as to the benefits arising from "brotherly union and concord." The transformation that had been effected in the lonely valley, be said, witnessed to the