“Cheerful brute you are!” Wally ejaculated. “Well, I’m ready any time you are, old man, though I think it would be kind to the cattle not to disturb them until the cool of the evening!”
“I like your kind forethought for the bullocks,” Jim told him, laughing. “They’d appreciate it, I know. You’ll end up as a philanthropist, if you’re not careful, Wally. Unfortunately we’ve a job with the sheep for the time you mention, so the cattle must come first—it’s very certain that we wouldn’t get a move out of the sheep just now.”
Wally sighed heavily.
“It’s a laborious life I lead,” he said, stretching his long limbs on the couch. “I come up here with beautiful hopes of getting fat, and I always go back about two stone lighter. Norah, I wish you wouldn’t sew so hard; it makes a fellow ache to see you.”
“Jim will ache if this coat isn’t ready,” said Norah, stitching vigorously. “His coats are in a dreadful state—there isn’t one cool one that doesn’t need mending. As far as Brownie and I can tell he seems to have locked them away carefully whenever he tore them. Why did you do it, Jimmy?”
“An’ me ready an’ willin’ as ever was to mend ’em,” Brownie said; “an’ now Miss Norah’s doin’ of it, poor lamb! Why did you, Master Jim?”
“Blessed if I know,” said Jim, somewhat embarrassed. “I didn’t know the jolly things weren’t all right. Sorry—but it’s ripping practice for you, Nor., all the same. You can tell old Miss Winter I kept you up to the mark with your needle!”
“M-f!” said Norah, with much scorn in the terse remark. “In the circumstances, Brownie, does he deserve a cool drink?”
“He don’t, but I expect he’ll have to get it,” said Brownie, laughing. She rose with the deliberate majesty that pertains to seventeen stone. “There’s a new brew of lemonade coolin’ in the cellar, and I’ll bring a jug along.”
“Bless you, Brownie, you’re my best friend,” said Jim. “You needn’t bring any for the others—they haven’t earned it.”