"Nothing I'd like better," he said. "I was wondering where I could get hold of some young stock." His face clouded a little. "My wife isn't looking very fit to-day—I had planned to take her out this afternoon on the lake. Still, it's business, and she won't mind."
"Not she," said 'Possum. "I say, though, I haven't got anything special to do to-day: how'd it be if I was to stay and do a few odd jobs about the house, an' then take her an' Garth out in the skiff when it gets cooler? We could drift down to the lake, an' then just mooch along until we met you comin' home from Metung; an' you could bring us home in the launch an' tow the skiff."
"That's as brilliant as most of your ideas, 'Possum," Tom exclaimed. "I would be very glad to think Aileen had your company to-day, and she'll get her outing after all. It won't be hard work for you, either, for the current will take you down to the lake, and if you don't start until it's cool we ought to meet you soon after."
"Oh, that'll be all right," 'Possum answered. "Goodness knows, I'm used to pullin', an' that skiff of yours is just a beauty to pull—she's diff'rent from our old tub. Well, I'll get along, an' let me horse go."
It was an unusually stifling day, and Aileen was tired enough to be meek when 'Possum bullied her into subsiding into a long chair. She had risen at five o'clock, having found that the only way to work comfortably in such weather was to do so before the sun had time to grow vicious: therefore, the housework was done, and lunch prepared. 'Possum was slightly disgusted. "I came hopin' to be useful," she said, arranging Aileen's feet comfortably.
"You're always useful," Aileen said, smiling up at her. "Come and sit down, too, and we'll sew."
'Possum shook her head.
"No good me tryin' to sew in this weather," she said. "The jolly old needle simply sticks in the stuff, like as if you'd rubbed glue on it. It's a marvel to me how you manage it, Missus. Never mind; I'll go on makin' the cage for that parrot we're goin' to catch for Garth some day. I won't make much mess, an' I'll sweep it up." She busied herself with tools deftly, while Garth watched and tried to help.
No one wanted much lunch: it was too hot to eat. They made what pretence they could, and soon went back to the veranda. At their feet Bran panted, open-mouthed; outside the fences they could see the fowls, with gaping beaks, standing about under the trees.
"I say," said Garth suddenly, "what about a bathe?"