Page:On Our Selection.djvu/87

Rh Dad nodded assent.

"Got any water?"

There wasn't a drop in the cask, so Dad came in and asked Mother if there was any tea left. She pulled a long, solemn, Sunday-school face, and looked at Joe, who was holding the teapot upside-down, shaking the tea-leaves into his cup.

"Tea, Dad?" he chuckled—"by golly!"

Dad did n't think it worth while going out to the bailiff again. He sent Joe.

"Not any at all?"

"Nothink," said Joe.

"H'm! Nulla bona, eh?" And the Law smiled at its own joke and went off thirsty.

Thus it was that Dad came to be away one day when his great presence of mind and ability as a bush doctor was most required at Shingle Hut.

Dave took Dad's place at the plough. One of the horses—a colt that Dad bought with the money he got for helping with Anderson's crop—had only just been broken. He was bad at starting. When touched with the rein he would stand and wait until the old furrow-horse put in a few steps; then plunge to get ahead of him, and if a chain or a swingle-tree or something else did n't break, and Dave kept the plough in, he ripped and tore along in style, bearing in and bearing out,