gh red stave in a God-writ song was the narrow, water-worn Bush
track, and the birds knew the song and gloried in it, and the trees gave
forth an accompaniment under the unseen hands of the wind until all the
hillside was a living melody. Child voices joined in, and presently from
a bend in the track, 'three ha'pence for tuppence, three ha'pence for
tuppence,' came a lumbering old horse, urged into an unwonted canter.
Three kiddies bestrode the ancient, and as they swung along they sang
snatches of Kipling's 'Recessional,' to an old hymn-tune that lingers in
the memory of us all. As they drew near to me the foremost urchin
suddenly reined up. The result was disastrous, for the ancient
'propped,' and the other two were emptied out on the track. From the
dust they called their brother many names that are not to be found in
school books; but he, laughing, had slid down and was cutting a twig
from a neighbouring tree. 'A case-moth! A case-moth!' he cried. The
fallen ones scrambled to their feet. 'What sort, Teddy? What sort?' they
asked eagerly.

"But Teddy had caught sight of me.

"'Well, what will you do with that?' I asked.

"'Take it to school, sir; teacher tells us all about them at school.'
The answer was spoken naturally and without any trace of shyness.

"'Did you learn that hymn you were singing at school, too?'

"''Tain't a hymn, sir. It's the "Recessional"!' This, proudly, from the
youngest.

"But they had learned it at school, and when I had given them a leg-up
and stood watching them urge the ancient down the hillside, I made up my
mind that I would visit the school where the teacher told the scholars
all about case-moths and taught them to sing the 'Recessional'; and a
morning or two later I did.

[Illustration: AUSTRALIAN CHILDREN RIDING TO SCHOOL. PAGE 75.]

"The school stands on the skirt of a thinly-clad Gippsland township, and
is attended by from forty to fifty children. Fronting it is a garden--a
sloping half-acre set out into beds, many of which are reserved for
native flowering plants and trees. School is not 'in' yet, and a few
early comers are at work on the beds, which are dry and dusty from a
long, hot spell. Little tots of six and seven years stroll up and watch
the workers, or romp about on grass plots in close proximity.
Presently the master's voice is heard. 'Fall in!' There is a gathering
up of bags, a hasty shuffling of feet, the usual hurry-scurry of
laggards, and in a few moments t