Then he dug up a little garden in front, and planted a dozen or two peaches and quinces in it; put a couple of roses--a red and a white one--by the posts of the verandah, and it was all ready for his pretty Norah, as she says he used to call her then.

If I've heard her tell about the garden and the quince trees and the two roses once, I've heard her tell it a hundred times.

Poor mother! we used to get round her--Aileen, and Jim, and I--and say, 'Tell us about the garden, mother.' She'd never refuse; those were her happy days, she always said.

She used to cry afterwards--nearly always.
The first thing almost that I can remember was riding the old pony, 'Possum, out to bring in the milkers.

Father was away somewhere, so mother took us all out and put me on the pony, and let me have a whip.