; "besh bred mare in the worl'."

The fencing-mate looked at her, but did n't say anything; he could n't.

"Eh?" Dad went on; "say sh'ain't? L'ere-ever y' name is--betcher pound
sh'is."

Then a jeering and laughing crowd gathered round, and Dave wished he
had n't come to the races.

"She ain't well," said a tall man to Dad--"short in her gallops." Then
a short, bulky individual without whiskers shoved his face up into
Dad's and asked him if Bess was a mare or a cow. Dad became excited,
and only that old Anderson came forward and took him away there must
have been a row.

Anderson put him in the dray and drove it home to Shingle Hut.

Dad reckons now that there is nothing in horse-racing, and declares it
a fraud. He says, further, that an honest man, by training and racing
a horse, is only helping to feed and fatten the rogues and vagabonds
that live on the sport.

Chapter VII.

Cranky Jack.

It was early in the day. Traveller after traveller was trudging by
Shingle Hut. One who carried no swag halted at the rails and came in.
He asked Dad for a job. "I dunno," Dad answered--"What wages would you
want?" The man said he would n't want any. Dad engaged him at once.

And SUCH a man! Tall, bony, heavy-jawed, shaven with a reaping-hook,
apparently. He had a thick crop of black hair--shaggy, unkempt, and
full of grease, grass, and fragments of dry gum-leaves. On his head
were two old felt hats--one sewn inside the other. On his back a shirt
made from a piece of blue blanket, with white cotton stitches striding
up and down it like lines of fencing. His trousers were gloom itself;
they were a problem, and bore reliable evidence of his industry. No
ordinary person would consider himself out of work while in them. And
the new-comer was no ordinary person. He seemed to have all the woe of
the world upon him; he was as sad and weird-looking as a widow out in
the wet.

In the yard was a large heap of firewood--remarkable truth!--which Dad
told him to chop up. He began. And how he worked! The axe rang
again--particularly when it left the handle--and pieces of wood
scattered everywhere. Dad watched him chopping for a while, then went
with Dave to pull corn.

For hours the man chopped away without once looking at the sun. Mother
came out. Joy! She had never seen so much wood cut before. She was
delighted. She made a cup of tea and took it to the man, and
apologised for having no sugar to p