Joe Wilson and His Mates [52]
were cross. She did look knocked up.
`We'll give the buggy a rest, Joe,' she said. (I thought I heard it
coming then.) `It seems as far off as ever. I don't know why
you want to harp on it to-day. Now, don't look so cross, Joe --
I didn't mean to hurt you. We'll wait until we can get a double buggy,
since you're so set on it. There'll be plenty of time when we're better off.'
After tea, when the youngsters were in bed, and she'd washed up,
we sat outside on the edge of the verandah floor, Mary sewing,
and I smoking and watching the track up the creek.
`Why don't you talk, Joe?' asked Mary. `You scarcely ever speak to me now:
it's like drawing blood out of a stone to get a word from you.
What makes you so cross, Joe?'
`Well, I've got nothing to say.'
`But you should find something. Think of me -- it's very miserable for me.
Have you anything on your mind? Is there any new trouble?
Better tell me, no matter what it is, and not go worrying and brooding
and making both our lives miserable. If you never tell one anything,
how can you expect me to understand?'
I said there was nothing the matter.
`But there must be, to make you so unbearable. Have you been drinking, Joe --
or gambling?'
I asked her what she'd accuse me of next.
`And another thing I want to speak to you about,' she went on.
`Now, don't knit up your forehead like that, Joe, and get impatient ----'
`Well, what is it?'
`I wish you wouldn't swear in the hearing of the children.
Now, little Jim to-day, he was trying to fix his little go-cart
and it wouldn't run right, and -- and ----'
`Well, what did he say?'
`He -- he' (she seemed a little hysterical, trying not to laugh) --
`he said "damn it!"'
I had to laugh. Mary tried to keep serious, but it was no use.
`Never mind, old woman,' I said, putting an arm round her,
for her mouth was trembling, and she was crying more than laughing.
`It won't be always like this. Just wait till we're a bit better off.'
Just then a black boy we had (I must tell you about him some other time)
came sidling along by the wall, as if he were afraid somebody was going
to hit him -- poor little devil! I never did.
`What is it, Harry?' said Mary.
`Buggy comin', I bin thinkit.'
`Where?'
He pointed up the creek.
`Sure it's a buggy?'
`Yes, missus.'
`How many horses?'
`One -- two.'
We knew that he could hear and see things long before we could.
Mary went and perched on the wood-heap, and shaded her eyes --
though the sun had gone -- and peered through between
the eternal grey trunks of the stunted trees on the flat across the creek.
Presently she jumped down and came running in.
`There's some one coming in a buggy, Joe!' she cried, excitedly.
`And both my white table-cloths are rough dry. Harry! put two flat-irons
down to the fire, quick, and put on some more wood. It's lucky
I kept those new sheets packed away. Get up out of that, Joe!
What are you sitting grinning like that for? Go and get on another shirt.
Hurry -- Why! It's only James -- by himself.'
She stared at me, and I sat there, grinning like a fool.
`Joe!' she said, `whose buggy is that?'
`Well, I suppose it's yours,' I said.
She caught her breath, and stared at the buggy and then at me again.
James drove down out of sight into the crossing, and came up
close to the house.
`Oh, Joe! what have you done?' cried Mary. `Why, it's a new double buggy!'
Then she rushed at me and hugged my head. `Why didn't you tell me, Joe?
You poor old boy! -- and I've been nagging at you all day!'
and she hugged me again.
James got down and started taking the horses out -- as if it was
an everyday occurrence. I saw the double-barrel gun sticking out
from under the seat. He'd stopped to wash the buggy, and I suppose
that's what made him grumpy. Mary stood on the verandah,
with her eyes twice as big as usual, and breathing hard --
taking the buggy in.
James skimmed the harness off, and the horses shook themselves
and went down to the dam for a drink.
`We'll give the buggy a rest, Joe,' she said. (I thought I heard it
coming then.) `It seems as far off as ever. I don't know why
you want to harp on it to-day. Now, don't look so cross, Joe --
I didn't mean to hurt you. We'll wait until we can get a double buggy,
since you're so set on it. There'll be plenty of time when we're better off.'
After tea, when the youngsters were in bed, and she'd washed up,
we sat outside on the edge of the verandah floor, Mary sewing,
and I smoking and watching the track up the creek.
`Why don't you talk, Joe?' asked Mary. `You scarcely ever speak to me now:
it's like drawing blood out of a stone to get a word from you.
What makes you so cross, Joe?'
`Well, I've got nothing to say.'
`But you should find something. Think of me -- it's very miserable for me.
Have you anything on your mind? Is there any new trouble?
Better tell me, no matter what it is, and not go worrying and brooding
and making both our lives miserable. If you never tell one anything,
how can you expect me to understand?'
I said there was nothing the matter.
`But there must be, to make you so unbearable. Have you been drinking, Joe --
or gambling?'
I asked her what she'd accuse me of next.
`And another thing I want to speak to you about,' she went on.
`Now, don't knit up your forehead like that, Joe, and get impatient ----'
`Well, what is it?'
`I wish you wouldn't swear in the hearing of the children.
Now, little Jim to-day, he was trying to fix his little go-cart
and it wouldn't run right, and -- and ----'
`Well, what did he say?'
`He -- he' (she seemed a little hysterical, trying not to laugh) --
`he said "damn it!"'
I had to laugh. Mary tried to keep serious, but it was no use.
`Never mind, old woman,' I said, putting an arm round her,
for her mouth was trembling, and she was crying more than laughing.
`It won't be always like this. Just wait till we're a bit better off.'
Just then a black boy we had (I must tell you about him some other time)
came sidling along by the wall, as if he were afraid somebody was going
to hit him -- poor little devil! I never did.
`What is it, Harry?' said Mary.
`Buggy comin', I bin thinkit.'
`Where?'
He pointed up the creek.
`Sure it's a buggy?'
`Yes, missus.'
`How many horses?'
`One -- two.'
We knew that he could hear and see things long before we could.
Mary went and perched on the wood-heap, and shaded her eyes --
though the sun had gone -- and peered through between
the eternal grey trunks of the stunted trees on the flat across the creek.
Presently she jumped down and came running in.
`There's some one coming in a buggy, Joe!' she cried, excitedly.
`And both my white table-cloths are rough dry. Harry! put two flat-irons
down to the fire, quick, and put on some more wood. It's lucky
I kept those new sheets packed away. Get up out of that, Joe!
What are you sitting grinning like that for? Go and get on another shirt.
Hurry -- Why! It's only James -- by himself.'
She stared at me, and I sat there, grinning like a fool.
`Joe!' she said, `whose buggy is that?'
`Well, I suppose it's yours,' I said.
She caught her breath, and stared at the buggy and then at me again.
James drove down out of sight into the crossing, and came up
close to the house.
`Oh, Joe! what have you done?' cried Mary. `Why, it's a new double buggy!'
Then she rushed at me and hugged my head. `Why didn't you tell me, Joe?
You poor old boy! -- and I've been nagging at you all day!'
and she hugged me again.
James got down and started taking the horses out -- as if it was
an everyday occurrence. I saw the double-barrel gun sticking out
from under the seat. He'd stopped to wash the buggy, and I suppose
that's what made him grumpy. Mary stood on the verandah,
with her eyes twice as big as usual, and breathing hard --
taking the buggy in.
James skimmed the harness off, and the horses shook themselves
and went down to the dam for a drink.