acre. There was on it a
four-roomed, weather-board house and outbuildings, quite a bush
palace. Farming was then profitable. Frank ploughed a large paddock
and sowed it with wheat and oats. Then while the grain was ripening
he resolved to ask Cecily a very important question. One Sunday he
rode to the hut with a spare horse and side saddle. Both horses were
well groomed, the side saddle was new, the bits, buckles, and
stirrup-irons were like burnished silver. Cecily could ride well
even without a saddle, but had never owned one. She yielded to
temptation, but with becoming coyness and modesty. Frank put one
hand on his knee, holding the bridle with the other; then Cicely
raised one of her little feet, was lifted lightly on to the saddle,
and the happy pair cantered gaily over the plain to their future home.

Frank showed his bride-elect the land and the crops, the cows and the
horses, the garden and the house. Cecily looked at everything, but
said next to nothing. "She is shy," Frank thought, "and I must treat
her gently." But the opportunity must not be thrown away, and on
their way over the plains Frank told his tale of love. I don't know
precisely what he said or how he said it, not having been present,
but he did not hook his fish that day, and he took home with him the
bait, the horse, and the empty side-saddle. But he persevered with
his suit, and before the wheat was ripe, Cecily consented to be his
bride.

He was so overjoyed with his success that instead of waiting for the
happy day when he had to say "With this ring I thee wed, with all my
worldly goods I thee endow," he gave Cecily the worldly goods
beforehand--the horse, with the beautiful new side saddle and
bridle--and nearly all his cash, reserving only sufficient to
purchase the magic ring and a few other necessaries.

The evening before the happy day the pair were seen walking together
before sundown on a vacant lot in the township, discussing, it was
supposed, the arrangements for the morrow.

It was the time of the harvest, and Philip had been engaged to
measure the work of the reapers on a number of farms. I am aware
that he asked and received 1 pound for each paddock, irrespective of
area. On the bridal morn he walked over Frank's farm with his chain
and began the measurement, the reapers, most of them broken down
diggers, following him and watching him. Old Jimmy Gillon took one
end of the chain; he said he had been a chainman