CHAPTER X
'POSSUM TAKES HOLD
'Possum arrived next morning with the old grey horse in a dray which contained, besides herself, a small, silent brother, a plough, and a box of eggs.
"They're me best Wyandottes' aigs," she explained. "Oh, yes, you can pay me for 'em. Will we set the hens now, Mrs. Macleod?"
They went off to the shed, the invariable storehouse of Bush lumber—containing much rubbish and many treasures. Among the latter were three small empty cases upon which 'Possum pounced.
"Do first-rate," she said.
She found her way, as if by instinct, to the tool-shed: and Garth and Aileen watched her as she split an old fruit-case into laths, nailing them on the open sides of her boxes, an inch apart. Larger pieces she reserved for doors, hanging them in position by short strips of leather cut from an old boot.
"Just you keep old boots like that," she said, tenderly regarding the green and mouldy relic she had disinterred from a rubbish-heap. "Never know when you won't want a bit of leather on a farm: and gen'lly-as-a-rule, when you most want it, it ain't there. Now that's all right. Any straw?"
Garth knew where there was straw, and fled for it delightedly: and 'Possum made a nest in each box, securing the straw from escaping by keeping it in place with bits of brick. It was all done very quickly. She carried a box to a quiet corner of the fowl-yard—and turned to remonstrate at finding Aileen bearing the second in the rear.
"I say—you oughtn't to do that!"