After that she felt she could never be very unhappy again, and she would think of a time that might come when she would stand on the deck of a big out-going ship and plunge away through the rollicking, dancing waves, out past the Heads, where the snow-capped breakers foamed and tossed and tumbled, and away o’er the trackless ocean, till wonderful new lands were reached!
Willie declared that the country was the best place in all the world, and he would never, never, never go back to “old” Sydney again!
“Pshaw! I hate all the rows and rows and rows of houses, and no big paddocks and no mobs of sheep or horses, and I hate all the old cart-horses now, the old baker’s and butcher’s and milkman’s, and I hate all the cab-horses, and all the horses in Hordern’s and Lassetter’s vans, and I hate the trams, and I hate everything in Sydney! I wish Mamma would come up here and live!”
“What a pity we couldn’t get a nice little house built in the little paddock for your Mother,” said Eva.
“Oh, yes! wouldn’t it be grand?” cried Willie. “Or a tent would do.”
“A tent?” cried Eva, in disgust. “Oh, no!”
“Yes, we lived in a tent for weeks once at Narrabeen.”
“Oh, but that’s different! That was picnic-like.”
“Well, we can make it picnic-like up here,” declared Willie, “and Dadda could come up when he gets his holidays.”
“Oh, no, Willie! they could never live in a tent up here,” said Eva, decidedly. “It’s real different to Narrabeen.”