“And is yours a good car?”
“Ours? Oh, we’ve got three. Yes, they’re all good. I can drive a bit. Is it hard to drive horses?”
“Not when you’re used to it,” said Jo. “Or to ride them, either. Can you ride, by the way?”
“No, I never tried riding. We’ve been in town since I was a little kiddie. Helen said she supposed I’d learn at Emu Plains.”
“Oh, of course you’ll have to—we all learned to ride about the time we learned to walk,” Jo told him. “It’s half the fun of the bush.”
“Is there much fun in the bush?” asked the small boy doubtfully.
“Depends on what you call fun,” Jo answered briskly. “Of course, if you’re mad keen on picture-shows and theatres and going down to St. Kilda, you may find it a bit slow. We have riding and driving, and we go for picnics, and there’s ripping bathing in the river, and there always seems something to do about the place. Billy—that’s my young brother—is awfully glad you’re coming. He has never had a mate of his own size.”
“How old is he?” asked Rex, forbearing to make any comment on the list of country attractions.
“Eight, but he’s as big as you, I think. He’s hoping very much that he is, anyway. He rides pretty well, and he can swim fairly. Dad thinks it would be a good plan to teach you both to box.”
“I’d like that,” Rex said eagerly. “My father was going to have me taught, but I got sick after I’d only had one lesson. I don’t have to wear my specs. to box, and that’s a pull. Specs. are an awful nuisance.”