cat, a native
bear, a magpie, and a parrot, and he paid nothing for any of them
except the horse. One day he met Mr. McCarthy talking to Bob Atkins,
a station hand, who had a horse to sell--a filly, rising three.
McCarthy was a good judge of horses, and after inspecting the filly,
he said: "She will just suit you, Mr. Philip, you ought to buy her."
So the bargain was made; the price was ten pounds, Bob giving in the
saddle, bridle, a pair of hobbles, and a tether rope. He was proud
of his deal.

Two years afterwards, when Philip was riding through the bush, Bob
rode up alongside, and after a while said:

"Well, Mister, how do you like that filly I sold you?"

"Very well indeed. She is a capital roadster and stockhorse."

"Does she ever throw you?"

"Never. What makes you ask?"

"Well, that's queer. The fact is I sold her to you because I could
not ride her. Every time I mounted, she slung me a buster."

"I see, Bob, you meant well, didn't you? But she never yet slung me
a buster; she is quieter than a lamb, and she will come to me
whenever I whistle, and follow me like a dog."

Philip's first dog was named Sam. He was half collie and half bull
dog, and was therefore both brave and full of sagacity. He guarded
the hut and the other domestics during school hours, and when he saw
Philip coming up the hill, he ran to meet him, smiling and wagging
his tail, and reported all well. The other dog was only a small pup,
a Skye terrier, like a bunch of tow, a present from Tommy Traddles.
Pup's early days were made very miserable by Maggie, the magpie.
That wicked bird used to strut around Philip while he was digging in
the garden, and after filling her crop with worms and grubs, she
flapped away on one wing and went round the hut looking for
amusement. She jumped on Pup's back, scratched him with her claws,
pecked at his skull, and pulled locks of wool out of it, the poor
innocent all the while yelping and howling for mercy. Sam never
helped Pup, or drove Maggie away; he was actually afraid of her, and
believed she was a dangerous witch. Sometimes she pecked at his
tail, and he dared not say a word, but sneaked away, looking sideways
at her, hanging down his ears, and afraid to say his tail was his
own. Joey, the parrot, watched all that was going on from his cage,
which was hung on a hook outside the hut door. Philip tried to teach
Joey to whistle a tune: "There is na luck aboot the hoose, There is
na