en leave in the night and be
seen no more for months--some of them never.

And yet we were always out of meat!

Dad was up the country earning a few pounds--the corn drove him up when
it did n't bring what he expected. All we got out of it was a bag of
flour--I do n't know what the storekeeper got. Before he left we put
in the barley. Somehow, Dad did n't believe in sowing any more crops,
he seemed to lose heart; but Mother talked it over with him, and when
reminded that he would soon be entitled to the deeds he brightened up
again and worked. How he worked!

We had no plough, so old Anderson turned over the six acres for us, and
Dad gave him a pound an acre--at least he was to send him the first six
pounds got up country. Dad sowed the seed; then he, Dan and Dave yoked
themselves to a large dry bramble each and harrowed it in. From the
way they sweated it must have been hard work. Sometimes they would sit
down in the middle of the paddock and "spell" but Dad would say
something about getting the deeds and they'd start again.

A cockatoo-fence was round the barley; and wire-posts, a long distance
apart, round the grass-paddock. We were to get the wire to put in when
Dad sent the money; and apply for the deeds when he came back. Things
would be different then, according to Dad, and the farm would be worked
properly. We would break up fifty acres, build a barn, buy a reaper,
ploughs, cornsheller, get cows and good horses, and start two or three
ploughs. Meanwhile, if we (Dan, Dave and I) minded the barley he was
sure there'd be something got out of it.

Dad had been away about six weeks. Travellers were passing by every
day, and there was n't one that did n't want a little of something or
other. Mother used to ask them if they had met Dad? None ever did
until an old grey man came along and said he knew Dad well--he had
camped with him one night and shared a damper. Mother was very pleased
and brought him in. We had a kangaroo-rat (stewed) for dinner that day.
The girls did n't want to lay it on the table at first, but Mother said
he would n't know what it was. The traveller was very hungry and liked
it, and when passing his plate the second time for more, said it was
n't often he got any poultry.

He tramped on again, and the girls were very glad he did n't know it
was a rat. But Dave was n't so sure that he did n't know a rat from a
rooster, and reckoned he had n't met Dad at all.

The seventh wee