CHAPTER XXIII
A DAY'S SHOOT
"Alas! that, when the changing year
Brings round the blessed day,
The hearts of little native boys
Wax keen to hunt and slay,
As if the chime of Christmas time
Were but a call to prey."
BRUNTON STEPHENS.
"S-a-n-d-e-e! S-a-n-d-e-e!"
"H-e-ll-o! H-e-ll-o!"
"Where—are—you?"
"Down—here."
"Where's here?"
"Find—out!"
"Where's that horrid Sandy, Joe?" exclaimed Jessie M'Intyre to Joe Blain, as she came out into the back yard, shortly after breakfast, one fine morning a few days after the brumby hunt.