a race of poets, and I don't know what the country will come to in the end.
Well. It was after Jack and I had been out shearing at Beenaway shed

in the Big Scrubs. Jack was living in the little farming town of Solong,
and I was hanging round. Black, the squatter, wanted some fencing done

and a new stable built, or buggy and harness-house, at his place at Haviland,
a few miles out of Solong. Jack and I were good Bush carpenters,

so we took the job to keep us going till something else turned up.
`Better than doing nothing,' said Jack.

`There's a nice little girl in service at Black's,' he said.
`She's more like an adopted daughter, in fact, than a servant.

She's a real good little girl, and good-looking into the bargain.
I hear that young Black is sweet on her, but they say she won't have

anything to do with him. I know a lot of chaps that have tried for her,
but they've never had any luck. She's a regular little dumpling,

and I like dumplings. They call her 'Possum. You ought to try a bear
up in that direction, Joe.'

I was always shy with women -- except perhaps some that I should have
fought shy of; but Jack wasn't -- he was afraid of no woman,

good, bad, or indifferent. I haven't time to explain why,
but somehow, whenever a girl took any notice of me I took it for granted

that she was only playing with me, and felt nasty about it.
I made one or two mistakes, but -- ah well!

`My wife knows little 'Possum,' said Jack. `I'll get her
to ask her out to our place and let you know.'

I reckoned that he wouldn't get me there then, and made a note
to be on the watch for tricks. I had a hopeless little love-story behind me,

of course. I suppose most married men can look back to their lost love;
few marry the first flame. Many a married man looks back and thinks

it was damned lucky that he didn't get the girl he couldn't have.
Jack had been my successful rival, only he didn't know it --

I don't think his wife knew it either. I used to think her
the prettiest and sweetest little girl in the district.

But Jack was mighty keen on fixing me up with the little girl at Haviland.
He seemed to take it for granted that I was going to fall in love with her

at first sight. He took too many things for granted
as far as I was concerned, and got me into awful tangles sometimes.

`You let me alone, and I'll fix you up, Joe,' he said,
as we rode up to the station. `I'll make it all right with the girl.

You're rather a good-looking chap. You've got the sort of eyes
that take with girls, only you don't know it; you haven't got the go.

If I had your eyes along with my other attractions, I'd be in trouble
on account of a woman about once a-week.'

`For God's sake shut up, Jack,' I said.
Do you remember the first glimpse you got of your wife? Perhaps not

in England, where so many couples grow up together from childhood;
but it's different in Australia, where you may hail from

two thousand miles away from where your wife was born, and yet she may be
a countrywoman of yours, and a countrywoman in ideas and politics too.

I remember the first glimpse I got of Mary.
It was a two-storey brick house with wide balconies and verandahs all round,

and a double row of pines down to the front gate. Parallel at the back
was an old slab-and-shingle place, one room deep and about eight rooms long,

with a row of skillions at the back: the place was used for kitchen,
laundry, servants' rooms, &c. This was the old homestead

before the new house was built. There was a wide, old-fashioned,
brick-floored verandah in front, with an open end; there was ivy

climbing up the verandah post on one side and a baby-rose on the other,
and a grape-vine near the chimney. We rode up to the end of the verandah,

and Jack called to see if there was any one at home, and Mary came
trotting out; so it was in the frame of vines that I first saw her.

More than once since then I've had a fancy to wonder
whether the rose-bush killed the grape-vine or the ivy smothered 'em both

in the end. I used to have a vague idea of riding that way some day to see.
You do get strange fancies at odd times.

Jack asked her if the boss was in. He did all the talking.
I saw a little girl, rather plump, with a complexion like

a New England or Blue Mountain girl, or a girl from Tasmania or from Gippsland
in Victoria. Red and white girls were very scarce in the Solong district.

She had the biggest and brightest eyes I'd seen round there,
dark hazel eyes, as I found out afterwards, and bright as a 'possum's.

No wonder they called her `'Possum'. I forgot at once
that Mrs Jack Barnes was the prettiest girl in the district.

I felt a sort of comfortable satisfaction in the fact that I was on horseback:
most Bushmen look better on horseback. It was a black filly,

a fresh young thing, and she seemed as shy of girls as I was myself.
I noticed Mary glanced in my direction once or twice to see if she knew me;

but, when she looked, the filly took all my attention. Mary trotted in
to tell old Black he was wanted, and after Jack had seen him,

and arranged to start work next day, we started back to Solong.
I expected Jack to ask me what I thought of Mary -- but he didn't.

He squinted at me sideways once or twice and didn't say anything
for a long time, and then he started talking of other things.

I began to feel wild at him. He seemed so damnably satisfied with the way
things were going. He seemed to reckon that I was a gone case now;

but, as he didn't say so, I had no way of getting at him.
I felt sure he'd go home and tell his wife that Joe Wilson was properly gone

on little 'Possum at Haviland. That was all Jack's way.
Next morning we started to work. We were to build the buggy-house

at the back near the end of the old house, but first we had to take down
a rotten old place that might have been the original hut in the Bush

before the old house was built. There was a window in it,
opposite the laundry window in the old place, and the first thing I did

was to take out the sash. I'd noticed Jack yarning with 'Possum
before he started work. While I was at work at the window

he called me round to the other end of the hut to help him lift a grindstone
out of the way; and when we'd done it, he took the tips of my ear

between his fingers and thumb and stretched it and whispered into it --
`Don't hurry with that window, Joe; the strips are hardwood

and hard to get off -- you'll have to take the sash out very carefully
so as not to break the glass.' Then he stretched my ear a little more

and put his mouth closer --
`Make a looking-glass of that window, Joe,' he said.

I was used to Jack, and when I went back to the window I started to puzzle out
what he meant, and presently I saw it by chance.

That window reflected the laundry window: the room was dark inside
and there was a good clear reflection; and presently I saw Mary

come to the laundry window and stand with her hands behind her back,
thoughtfully watching me. The laundry window had an old-fashioned

hinged sash, and I like that sort of window -- there's more romance about it,
I think. There was thick dark-green ivy all round the window,

and Mary looked prettier than a picture. I squared up my shoulders
and put my heels together and put as much style as I could into the work.

I couldn't have turned round to save my life.
Presently Jack came round, and Mary disappeared.

`Well?' he whispered.
`You're a fool, Jack,' I said. `She's only interested in the old house

being pulled down.'
`That's all right,' he said. `I've been keeping an eye on the business

round the corner, and she ain't interested when I'M round this end.'
`You seem mighty interested in the business,' I said.

`Yes,' said Jack. `This sort of thing just suits a man of my rank
in times of peace.'

`What made you think of the window?' I asked.
`Oh, that's as simple as striking matches. I'm up to all those dodges.

Why, where there wasn't a window, I've fixed up a piece of looking-glass
to see if a girl was taking any notice of me when she thought

I wasn't looking.'
He went away, and presently Mary was at the window again, and this time

she had a tray with cups of tea and a plate of cake and bread-and-butter.
I was prizing off the strips that held the sash, very carefully,

and my heart suddenly commenced to gallop, without any reference to me.
I'd never felt like that before, except once or twice.

It was just as if I'd swallowed some clockwork arrangement,
unconsciously, and it had started to go, without warning.

I reckon it was all on account of that blarsted Jack working me up.
He had a quiet way of working you up to a thing, that made you want

to hit him sometimes -- after you'd made an ass of yourself.
I didn't hear Mary at first. I hoped Jack would come round and help me

out of the fix, but he didn't.
`Mr -- Mr Wilson!' said Mary. She had a sweet voice.

I turned round.
`I thought you and Mr Barnes might like a cup of tea.'

`Oh, thank you!' I said, and I made a dive for the window, as if hurry
would help it. I trod on an old cask-hoop; it sprang up and dinted my shin

and I stumbled -- and that didn't help matters much.
`Oh! did you hurt yourself, Mr Wilson?' cried Mary.

`Hurt myself! Oh no, not at all, thank you,' I blurted out.
`It takes more than that to hurt me.'

I was about the reddest shy lanky fool of a Bushman that was ever taken
at a disadvantage on foot, and when I took the tray my hands shook so

that a lot of the tea was spilt into the saucers. I embarrassed her too,
like the damned fool I was, till she must have been as red as I was,

and it's a wonder we didn't spill the whole lot between us.
I got away from the window in as much of a hurry as if Jack had cut his leg

with a chisel and fainted, and I was running with whisky for him.
I blundered round to where he was, feeling like a man feels when he's just

made an ass of himself in public. The memory of that sort of thing
hurts you worse and makes you jerk your head more impatiently

than the thought of a past crime would, I think.
I pulled myself together when I got to where Jack was.

`Here, Jack!' I said. `I've struck something all right;
here's some tea and brownie -- we'll hang out here all right.'

Jack took a cup of tea and a piece of cake and sat down to enjoy it,
just as if he'd paid for it and ordered it to be sent out about that time.

He was silent for a while, with the sort of silence that always made me
wild at him. Presently he said, as if he'd just thought of it --

`That's a very pretty little girl, 'Possum, isn't she, Joe?
Do you notice how she dresses? -- always fresh and trim.

But she's got on her best bib-and-tucker to-day, and a pinafore
with frills to it. And it's ironing-day, too. It can't be on your account.

If it was Saturday or Sunday afternoon, or some holiday,
I could understand it. But perhaps one of her admirers is going to take her

to the church bazaar in Solong to-night. That's what it is.'
He gave me time to think over that.

`But yet she seems interested in you, Joe,' he said. `Why didn't you offer
to take her to the bazaar instead of letting another chap get in ahead of you?

You miss all your chances, Joe.'
Then a thought struck me. I ought to have known Jack well enough

to have thought of it before.
`Look here, Jack,' I said. `What have you been saying to that girl about me?'

`Oh, not much,' said Jack. `There isn't much to say about you.'
`What did you tell her?'

`Oh, nothing in particular. She'd heard all about you before.'
`She hadn't heard much good, I suppose,' I said.

`Well, that's true, as far as I could make out. But you've only got
yourself to blame. I didn't have the breeding and rearing of you.

I smoothed over matters with her as much as I could.'
`What did you tell her?' I said. `That's what I want to know.'

`Well, to tell the truth, I didn't tell her anything much.
I only answered questions.'

`And what questions did she ask?'
`Well, in the first place, she asked if your name wasn't Joe Wilson;

and I said it was, as far as I knew. Then she said she heard
that you wrote poetry, and I had to admit that that was true.'

`Look here, Jack,' I said, `I've two minds to punch your head.'
`And she asked me if it was true that you were wild,' said Jack,

`and I said you was, a bit. She said it seemed a pity.
She asked me if it was true that you drank, and I drew a long face and said

that I was sorry to say it was true. She asked me if you had any friends,
and I said none that I knew of, except me. I said that you'd lost

all your friends; they stuck to you as long as they could,

• stable [´steibəl] n.马棚 a.稳固的 (初中英语单词)
• whenever [wen´evə] conj.&ad.无论何时 (初中英语单词)
• account [ə´kaunt] vi.说明 vt.认为 n.帐目 (初中英语单词)
• glimpse [glimps] n.&v.瞥见 (初中英语单词)
• politics [´pɔlitiks] n.政治(学)；政治活动 (初中英语单词)
• parallel [´pærəlel] a.平行的 n.平行线 (初中英语单词)
• scarce [skeəs, skers] a.缺乏的；稀有的 (初中英语单词)
• satisfaction [,sætis´fækʃən] n.满意；满足 (初中英语单词)
• reckon [´rekən] v.计算；认为；估计 (初中英语单词)
• properly [´prɔpəli] ad.适当地；严格地 (初中英语单词)
• puzzle [´pʌzl] n.迷(惑) v.(使)迷惑 (初中英语单词)
• presently [´prezəntli] ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词)
• reflection [ri´flekʃən] n.反射；映象；想法 (初中英语单词)
• romance [rəu´mæns] n.中世纪骑士小说 (初中英语单词)
• striking [´straikiŋ] a.显著的，明显的 (初中英语单词)
• gallop [´gæləp] n.&v.奔驰；急速行进 (初中英语单词)
• reference [´refərəns] n.参考；参照；出处 (初中英语单词)
• working [´wə:kiŋ] a.工人的；劳动的 (初中英语单词)
• sprang [spræŋ] spring 的过去式 (初中英语单词)
• running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
• poetry [´pəuitri] n.诗；诗意 (初中英语单词)
• hanging [´hæŋiŋ] n.绞刑 a.悬挂着的 (高中英语单词)
• fencing [´fensiŋ] n.击剑；栅栏；搪塞 (高中英语单词)
• indifferent [in´difrənt] a.不关心的；中立的 (高中英语单词)
• hopeless [´həupləs] a.无望的，无可救药的 (高中英语单词)
• damned [dæmd] a.该死的 ad.非常，极 (高中英语单词)
• mighty [´maiti] a.强有力的 ad.很 (高中英语单词)
• concerned [kən´sə:nd] a.有关的；担心的 (高中英语单词)
• complexion [kəm´plekʃən] n.肤色；情况；局面 (高中英语单词)
• horseback [´hɔ:sbæk] n.马背 (高中英语单词)
• rotten [´rɔtn] a.腐烂的；腐朽的 (高中英语单词)
• disadvantage [,disəd´vɑ:ntidʒ] n.不利(条件)；损失 (高中英语单词)
• saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
• laundry [´lɔ:ndri] n.洗衣店；待洗的衣服 (英语四级单词)
• chisel [´tʃizəl] n.凿子 v.凿；欺骗；干涉 (英语四级单词)
• brownie [´brauni] n.小精灵 (英语四级单词)
• breeding [´bri:diŋ] n.饲养，教养 (英语四级单词)
• good-looking [] a.漂亮的，美貌的 (英语六级单词)
• taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)