Joe Wilson and His Mates | Page 6

`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