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Bruce, Mary Grant, 1878-1958

"Back to Billabong"

"You needn't think, because you come here dressed like
the lilies of the field and fresh from motoring girls round the country,
that--"
"My hat!" said Jim justly incensed. "And I after cleaning out and
whitewashing the hospital fowl-houses all the morning! Young Wally, you
need some one to sit on your head." He took off his coat slowly.
"Ten to one," said Wally hastily, "if we had time to look into the
matter we'd find you'd whitewashed the fowls as well! These Army
Johnnies are so beastly impractical!" He gathered up his brushes and
fled, pursued by his chum. Sounds of warfare came faintly from the
distance.
"It's a good thing some of us are sane," said Mr. Linton laughing.
"Nearly finished, Bob?"
He was painting a shelf-table, screwed to the wall within a space at
the end of the verandah, which they had completely enclosed with wire
mosquito netting. Bob was hanging the door of this open-air room in
position, a task requiring judgment, as the floor of the verandah was
old and uneven.
"Nearly, sir," he mumbled, his utterance made difficult by the fact
of having several screws in his mouth. He worked vigorously for a few
moments, and then stood back to survey his job. "This is going to be
a great little room--though it's hard just now to imagine that it will
ever be warm enough for it."
"Just you wait a few months until we get a touch of hot weather, and
the mosquitoes come out!" said David Linton.


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