"I mean," Dad said, "that no man should starve in this country when there's kangaroos and bears and"—(Joe came and stood beside Dad and asked him if he was DEAF)—"and goannas and snakes in thousands. Look here!" (still to the weird man), "you say that farming"—(Mother, bare-headed, came out and stood beside Joe, and asked Anderson if Mrs. Anderson had got a nurse yet, and Anderson smiled and said he believed another son had just arrived, but he had n't seen it)—"that farming don't pay"—(Sal came along and stood near Mother and asked Anderson who the baby was like)—"don't pay in this country?"
The man nodded.
"It will pay any man who——"
Interruption.
Anderson's big dog had wandered to the house, and came back with nearly all that was for supper in his mouth.
Sal squealed.
"DROP IT—DROP IT, Bob!" Anderson shouted, giving chase. Bob dropped it on the road.
"DAMN IT!" said Dad, glaring at Mother, "wot d' y' ALL want out 'ere?...Y-YOU brute!" (to the dog, calmly licking its lips).
Then Anderson and the two men went away.
But when we had paid sixty pounds to the storekeeper and thirty pounds in interest; and paid for the seed and the reaping and threshing of the wheat; and bought three plough-horses, and a hack for Dave; and a corn-sheller, and a tank, and clothes for us all; and put rations in the house; and lent Anderson five pounds; and improved Shingle Hut; and so on; very little of the two hundred pounds was left.