Page:The Toll of the Bush.pdf/45

Pine and Geoffrey were still discussing the ploughing. Pine, having had the piece pointed out to him, had cast his eyes about and found a spot easier of accomplishment, and he was now eying to persuade Geoffrey to select the easier site for the plantation.

‘I tink much more betterer dis piece,’ he said. ‘Why for no?’

‘That is the piece I want you to plough, Pine,’ Geoffrey said with some exasperation for the fourth time; ‘that and no other.’

‘If you prough him, by’m-by rain come and wash taters down a hill.’

‘No,’ said Geoffrey, ‘because we intend to nail them in.’

‘I tink nail no good,’ Pine replied doggedly; ‘you want ‘em screw.’

‘Look here, you beggar, I’m not going to have you capping my jokes; take your bullocks and clear out.’

Pine groaned. ‘Where your prough?’ he asked.

The plough was got out from under the house, and Pine, after clucking disparagingly around it for awhile, called to the boy to let down the slip-rails.

By the time the porridge was cooked and the fish ready for breakfast, Pine came down carrying the ploughshare. He looked heated, and his mouth was contorted from swearing at the bullocks, which, not having done any ploughing for twelve months, were inclined to disregard the necessity for following a straight line.

‘Too many rust your prough,’ he said; ‘you want to put some more greases on him.’