The Wonder-Child by Ethel Sybil Turner
They were walking from the school to the paddock where the children's horses, thirty or forty nondescript animals, grazed all day long.
'Sh' think,' said Peter Small, son of the butcher who fed Wilgandra, - 'Sh' think you could have afforded one sprat at least for teacher's present!'
'Afforded!' quoth Bartie Cameron. 'I could have afforded a thousand pounds!'
'Then why d'ye 'ave 'oles in your stockings, and bursted boots?' asked Peter.
''Cause it's much nicer than having darns and patches,' returned Bartie, looking disparagingly upon his companion's neater garments.
'My old man's got a mortgage on your sheep,' said Peter, baffled on the patches.
'We like mortgages,' said Bartie airily; 'they make the sheep grow.'
'We've got a new red carpet comin' for our livin'-room,' shouted Peter.
Bartie looked him over contemptuously.
'I've got a sister in London, and she makes fifty pounds a night by her playing.'
'You're a lie!' said Peter, who was new to the school, and did not know the Camerons.
'Take this, then!' said Bartie, and put his strong young fist in the face of his friend.
A big girl, saddling her horse, came and pulled them apart, after they had had a round or two.
'Haven't I got a sister who makes fifty pounds a concert?' demanded Bartie breathlessly.
'Ain't he a lie?' demanded the son of the slaughterer.
They were walking from the school to the paddock where the children's horses, thirty or forty nondescript animals, grazed all day long.
'Sh' think,' said Peter Small, son of the butcher who fed Wilgandra, - 'Sh' think you could have afforded one sprat at least for teacher's present!'
'Afforded!' quoth Bartie Cameron. 'I could have afforded a thousand pounds!'
'Then why d'ye 'ave 'oles in your stockings, and bursted boots?' asked Peter.
''Cause it's much nicer than having darns and patches,' returned Bartie, looking disparagingly upon his companion's neater garments.
'My old man's got a mortgage on your sheep,' said Peter, baffled on the patches.
'We like mortgages,' said Bartie airily; 'they make the sheep grow.'
'We've got a new red carpet comin' for our livin'-room,' shouted Peter.
Bartie looked him over contemptuously.
'I've got a sister in London, and she makes fifty pounds a night by her playing.'
'You're a lie!' said Peter, who was new to the school, and did not know the Camerons.
'Take this, then!' said Bartie, and put his strong young fist in the face of his friend.
A big girl, saddling her horse, came and pulled them apart, after they had had a round or two.
'Haven't I got a sister who makes fifty pounds a concert?' demanded Bartie breathlessly.
'Ain't he a lie?' demanded the son of the slaughterer.
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