her on the head, "what else do you think I’ll do with them — send them to the blacks’ camp down the river to have ‘King Sandy’ and his tribe of linguists put the finishing touches on them? They shall go to Eton, where their father put in a number of joy- ful, unproductive years, my dear; and we shall both go with them to witness their enrolment."
Whatever anxiety Mother might have felt at such moments would soon be dispelled, and next minute she would be heard humming airs in her room or talking happily with the governess, or Mrs. Channing in the kitchen. But what a woman mother was! If beauty, combined with gentleness of manner, sympathy and kindness, were qualities that went to make a lady, then she was truly one. More practical minded than the Governor, yet, while having confidence enough in his plans for the future, she knew that high spirits and optimism alone would not turn mobs of cattle into profit or secure a bank overdraft.
And now I remember the first draft — two thousand head of young steers the Governor bought. (Till then the run was carrying eight hundred breeding cows and their progeny only). What station the steers came off I don’t remember, but the Governor paid two pounds a head for them through the bank, and John Strean was the drover in charge. When word came in that the mob was coming up the Condamine and had crossed Myall creek, Joe Eustace, the head stockman, was sent to meet them, and I went with him, as proud as a prince, on a little grey mare called White Wings. Next morning the Governor, with mother beside him in the trap, drove out to inspect the mob on the run.
