Macpherson?" And the parson said he
would--"just one."

Mother passed the rescued scone along, and awkwardly apologised for the
absence of plates. She explained that the Andersons were threshing
their wheat, and had borrowed all our crockery and
cutlery--everybody's, in fact, in the neighbourhood--for the use of the
men. Such was the custom round our way. But the minister did n't
mind. On the contrary, he commended everybody for fellowship and
good-feeling, and felt sure that the district would be rewarded.

It took the Rev. Macpherson no time to polish off the scone. When the
last of it was disappearing Mother became uneasy again. So did Dad.
He stared through the window at the parson's sleepy-looking horse,
fastened to the fence. Dad wished to heaven it would break away, or
drop dead, or do anything to provide him with an excuse to run out.
But it was a faithful steed. It stood there leaning on its forehead
against a post. There was a brief silence.

Then the minister joked about his appetite--at which only Joe could
afford to smile--and asked, "May I trouble you for just another scone?"

Mother muttered something like "Yes, of course," and went out to the
kitchen just as if there had been some there. Dad was very
uncomfortable. He patted the floor with the flat of his foot and
wondered what would happen next. Nothing happened for a good while.
The minister sipped and sipped his tea till none was left...

Dad said: "I'll see what's keeping her," and rose--glad if ever man
was glad--to get away. He found Mother seated on the ironbark table in
the kitchen. They did n't speak. They looked at each other
sympathisingly.

"Well?" Dad whispered at last; "what are you going to do?" Mother
shook her head. She did n't know.

"Tell him straight there ain't any, an' be done with it," was Dad's
cheerful advice. Mother several times approached the door, but
hesitated and returned again.

"What are you afraid of?" Dad would ask; "he won't eat y'." Finally she
went in.

Then Dad tiptoed to the door and listened. He was listening eagerly
when a lump of earth--a piece of the cultivation paddock--fell
dangerously near his feet. It broke and scattered round him, and
rattled inside against the papered wall. Dad jumped round. A row of
jackasses on a tree near by laughed merrily. Dad looked up. They
stopped. Another one laughed clearly from the edge of the tall corn.
Dad turned his head. It was Dave. D