"Bill and Lil," said Mr. Ellis. "My own breed. Angus lends us his for the twenty miles to the cross roads. We've just changed them and got our own. There's another twenty miles yet."
It now began to rain, and gradually grew dark and cold. The bush was dree, the dreest thing Jack had ever known. Rugs and mackintoshes were fetched out, the baby was fastened snug in a corner out of the wet, and the horses kept up a steady pace. And then, as Nature went to roost, Mr. Ellis woke up and pulled out his pipe, to begin a conversation.
"How's Ma?"
"Great!"
"How's Gran?"
"Same."
"All well?"
"Yes."
"He's come twenty miles," thought Jack, "and he only asks now!"
"See the doctor in town, Dad?" asked Tom.