"Beyond doubt a cow is a cow," he said. "We rank 'em high out back. Seriously, Miss Simpson, you wouldn't see an animal choke to death rather than upset decorum, would you?
"I am glad that such incidents have not come my way," said the spinster, vinegarishly. "I cannot but think a little girl would be better at a good boarding school than exposed to influences of the kind you describe. What, may I ask, will be your daughter's future?"
"Oh, she'll be pretty useful, I hope," said the squatter, cheerfully. "There, Merle, go on with your pudding," for the subject of the discussion showed imminent signs of bursting with wrath. "We'll take you in hand yet and make a young lady of you. All the same, I'll be disgusted if you ever turn your back on a cow in a bog!"
The silent young man spoke.
"I reckon," he said in a slow drawl, "that some of our old hands would have been in a bit of a hole if their womenfolk hadn't been willin' to lend a hand outside. My old grandmother talked half a dozen languages, and played three or four instruments, and sang in Italian and painted on satin, and all that sort of thing, and before she came out from England she'd never so much as made a bed. Then she came to Sydney with her father's regiment, and married and went up into the Never-Never country. After that there wasn't anything she didn't do, from fightin' blacks and bush fires and floods to helpin' clear the land and build the house. Did it all well too. Didn't hurt her, either, she said; she liked it. Great old sort. Lots like her, of course. Reckon they made Australia."
"Yes, and we're proud of 'em," said Mr. Warner. He grinned. "But what about their decorum, Miss Simpson?"
"I think the dear bishop is rising," said the spinster, acidly. "If you will excuse me——" She left the table in the wake of the "pontiffs."
"All the same," said Mr. Warner, when the laugh had subsided, "it isn't quite the same thing. Those old grandmothers of ours had decorum—stacks of it. They never lost it, even when they did a man's work. I suppose it was because they had so much of it ground into them when they were young. And it never did them any harm. But somehow nowadays it doesn't seem an easy matter to put on the decorum layer first. I don't know how it is." He looked across the table. "Got any little girls, Mrs. Lester?"
"No, only one bad boy," replied Dick's mother.
"Just as well for your peace of mind. Girls are a great responsibility, especially when they persist in thinking they're boys." He tweaked his small daughter's hair. "Finished? Then suppose we go up on deck, and you can make friends with my cabin mate."