After A Few Scathing Remarks On The Homestead In General, Which He Called
"One Of Those Down-At-The-Heels, Anything-'ll-Do Sort Of Places," He
Described The House.
"It's mostly verandahs and promises," he said; "but
one room is finished.
We call it The House, but you'll probably call it
a Hut, even though it has got doors and calico windows framed and on
hinges."
Then followed an inventory of the furniture. "There's one fairly steady,
good-sized table at least it doesn't fall over, unless some one leans on
it; then there's a bed with a wire mattress, but nothing else on it; and
there's a chair or two up to your weight (the boss'll either have to
stand up or lie down), and I don't know that there's much else excepting
plenty of cups and plates - they're enamel, fortunately, so you won't
have much trouble with the servants breaking things. Of course there's a
Christmas card and a few works of art on the walls for you to look at
when you're tired of looking at yourself in the glass. Yes! There's a
looking-glass - goodness knows how it got there! You ought to be thankful
for that and the wire-mattress. You won't find many of them out bush ."
I humbly acknowledged thankfulness, and felt deeply grateful to Mine
Host, when, with ready thoughtfulness he brought a couple of china cups
and stood them among the baggage - the heart of Mine Host was as warm and
sincere as his flashing smiles.
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