"Hank, do you think of Orstralia?"
"No, I ain't got dough enough to get that far."
"Do you mean bread?"
"No, I mean cash."
"Why don't you stay here?"
"Nothing to do that I know of. This is a one-horse place."
"Hank, you ain't seen your father," she cried, catching at his coat sleeve, as he turned toward the gate.
"'Pon my word, I forgot the old man. I believe I'll go in for sixty seconds. You say his health's better?"
"Yes," said 'Tilda Jane, hurriedly, "I didn't write you that he had a fit not long sence, and it seemed to straighten him out. He goes to town on his crutches every day, an' Gippie limps after him—oh, Hank Dillson, Hank Dillson, I'm mos' loony about this business of your goin' away."