inside with an immense log for the fire. A log! Nearer a whole tree! But wood was nothing in Dad's eyes.
Mrs. Brown had been at our place five or six days. Old Brown called occasionally to see her, so we knew they could n't have quarrelled. Sometimes she did a little housework, but more often she did n't. "We talked it over together, but could n't make it out. Joe asked Mother, but she had no idea—so she said. We were full up, as Dave put it, of Mrs. Brown, and wished her out of the place. She had taken to ordering us about, as though she had something to do with us.
After supper we sat round the fire—as near to it as we could without burning ourselves—Mrs. Brown and all, and listened to the wind whistling outside. Ah, it was pleasant beside the fire listening to the wind! When Dad had warmed himself back and front he turned to us and said:
"Now, boys, we must go directly and light some fires and keep those wallabies back."
That was a shock to us, and we looked at him to see if he were really in earnest. He was, and as serious as a judge.
"To-night!" Dave answered, surprisedly—"why to-night any more than last night or the night before? Thought you had decided to let them rip?"
"Yes, but we might as well keep them off a bit longer."
"But there's no wheat there for them to get now. So what 's the good of watching them? There's no sense in that."
