Perhaps I should have
mentioned it, but the brown mare's down with the puffs since the
showers," and looked around the company for approval.
But the Fizzer was filling the homestead with shoutings:
"Don't apologise," he yelled. "That's nothing! The chestnut's
just broken his leg; can't think how he got here. This'll
save me the trouble of shooting him." Then dropping back
to that chuckling drawl, and re-assuming the ogle, he added:
"The - flats - get - greener - every - year - about - the Elsey," and with a
good-humoured laugh Mac asked if "any other gentleman felt on for a
swop."
Naturally, for a while the conversation was all of horse deals, until,
Happy Dick coming in, it turned as naturally to dog-fights as Peter and
Brown stalked aggressively about the thoroughfare.
Daily we hinted to Happy Dick that Peter's welcome was wearing out, and
daily Happy Dick assured us that he "couldn't keep him away nohow." But
then Happy Dick's efforts to keep him away were peculiar, taking
the form of monologues as Peter trotted beside him towards the
homestead - reiterations of:
"We're not the sort to say nuff, are we, Peter? We'll never say die,
will we, Peter? We'll win if we don't lose, won't we, Peter?" Adding,
after his arrival at the homestead, a subdued "S - SS-s, go it, Peter!"
whenever Brown appeared in the thoroughfare.
But the homestead's hour of triumph was at hand, for as the afternoon
wore on, Happy Dick found the very best told recital a poor substitute
for the real thing, and thirsting for a further "Peter's latest," hissed:
"S - s - ss, go it, Peter!" once too often. For, well, soon
afterwards - figuratively speaking - Peter was carried off the field on a
stretcher.
True, Brown had only one sound leg left to stand on, but by propping the
other three carefully against it, he managed to cut a fairly triumphant
figure. But Brown's victory was not to be all advantage to the
homestead, for never again were we to hear "Peter's latest."
"Can't beat the Elsey for a good dog-fight! Can you, Peter?" the Fizzer
chuckled, as Peter lay licking his wounds at Happy Dick's feet; but the
Quarters, feeling the pleasantry ill-timed, delicately led the
conversation to cribbage, and at sun-up next morning Happy Dick "did a
get" to his work, with bulging pockets, leaving the Fizzer packing up and
declaring that "half a day at the Elsey gave a man a fresh start."
But Dan also was packing up - a "duplicate" brought in by the Fizzer
having necessitated his presence in Darwin, and as he packed up he
assured us he would be back in time for the Christmas celebrations, even
if he had to swim for it but before he left he paid a farewell visit to
the Christmas dinner. "In case of accidents," he explained, "mightn't
see it again.
