Out on the grass there, in front of my window, there is a little girl trying to dissuade a very small boy from pulling the black ear off an old white bulldog; but the fat little fists keep their grip, and as he staggers under the effort the little chap says:
“Molly mus’ pull Danl Conn! olla ear! Make him det up!”
Watching them with the brightest, merriest smile in the world, and looking years younger than when I first saw her, Mrs—
But if I mentioned her name this would not be an anonymous story.
Chapter Five.
The Pool.
Everyone remembers the rush to De Kaap some years ago. How everyone said that everyone else would make fortunes in half no time, and the country would be saved! Well, my brother Jim and I thought we would like to make fortunes too; so we packed our boxes, donned flannel shirts, felt hats and moleskin trousers, with a revolver each carelessly slung at our sides, and started. We intended to dig for about a year or so, and then sell out and live on the interest of our money—30,000 pounds each would do. It was all cut and dried. I often almost wished it wasn’t so certain, as now one hadn’t a chance of coming back suddenly and surprising the loved ones at home with the news of a grand fortune.
Full of excitement (certainties notwithstanding) we went down to Kent’s Forwarding Store, and there met Mr Harding, whose waggons were loaded for the gold-fields. This was our chance, and we took it.