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"There's a mob there that wants bringing in and regulating down there just uncommon bad. I was biding a bit, till you came home."

"Well, Geordie, you can call me at daylight to-morrow. I'll have an early breakfast and go out with you. You know I haven't been getting up quite so early lately."

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"You can just wake as early as any one, when you like, but I'll call you. sir; What horse shall I tell Harry? "Well, I'll take the Don,' I think. No, tell him to get 'Mustang,' he's the best cutting-out horse."

"No man ever had a better servant," thought Jack as he sat down in half an hour to his well-appointed table and well-served, well-cooked repast.

Geordie Stirling was as shrewd, staunch a Borderer as ever was reared in that somewhat bleak locality, a worthy descendant of the men who gathered fast with spear and brand, when the bale-fires gave notice that the moss-troopers were among their herds. He was sober, economical, and selfdenying. He and his good wife had retained the stern doctrines in which their youth had been reared, but little acted upon by the circumstances and customs of colonial life.

Jack applied himself to his dinner with reasonable earnestness, having had a longish ride, and being one of those persons whose natural appetite is rarely interfered with by circumstances. He could always eat, drink, and sleep with a zest which present joy or sorrow to come had no power to disturb. He therefore appreciated the roast fowl and other home-grown delicacies which Mrs. Stirling placed before him, and settled down to a good comfortable read afterwards, leaving the momentous question of migration temporarily in abeyance. After all this was over, however, he returned to the consideration of the subject. He went over Fred

Tunstall's arguments, which he thought were well enough in their way, but savoured of a nature unprogressive and too easily contented. "It's all very well to be contented," he said to himself; "and we are very fairly placed now, but a man must look ahead. Suppose these runs are cut up and sold by a democratic ministry, or allowed to be taken up, before survey, by cockatoos, where shall we be in ten years? Almost cockatoos ourselves, with run for four or five hundred head of cattle; a lot of fellows pestering our lives out; and

purchased land. There's no Not what I call a living;

a couple of thousand acres of living to be made out of that. unless one were to milk his own cows, and so on. I hardly think I should do that. No! I'll go in for something that will be growing and increasing year by year, not the other way. This district is getting worn out. The land is too good. The runs are too small and too close to one another, and will be smaller yet. No! my idea of a run is twenty miles frontage to a river-the Oxley or the Lachlan, with thirty miles back; then with twenty thousand ewes, or even ten to start with, you may expect something like an increase, and lots of ground to put them on. Then sell out and have a little Continental travel; come back, marry, and settle down. By Jove! here goes-Victory or Westminster Abbey!"

Inspired by these glorious visions, and conceiving quite a contempt for poor little Marshmead, with only 2,000 cattle and a hundred horses upon its 20,000 acres, Jack took out his writing materials and scribbled off the following advertisement :

"Messrs. Drawe and Backwell have much pleasure in announcing the sale by auction, at an early period, of which due notice will be given, of the station known as Marshmead, in the Hampden district, with two thousand unusually well-bred cattle of the J R brand. The run, in point of quality, is one of the best, in a celebrated fattening district. The cattle are highly bred, carefully culled, and have always brought first-class prices at the metropolitan sale-yards. The improvements are extensive, modern, and complete. The only reason for selling this valuable property is that the proprietor contemplates leaving the colony.'

"There," said Jack, laying down his pen, "that's quite enough-puffing won't sell a place, and everybody's heard of Marshmead, and of the J R cattle, most likely. If they haven't, they can ask. There's no great difficulty in selling a first-class run. And now I'll seal it up ready for the post, and turn in."

Next morning, considerably to Geordie's disappointment, Jack declined to go out to the "Lost Waterhole Camp," telling him rather shortly (to conceal his real feelings) that

he thought of selling the place, and that it would be time to muster when they were delivering.

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Going to sell the run!" gasped Geordie, perfectly aghast. Why, master, what ever put such a thing into your head? Where will ye find a bonnier place than this? and there's no such a herd of cattle in all the country round. Sell Marshmead! Why, you must have picked up that when in town."

"Never mind where I picked it up," said Jack, rather crossly; "I have thought the matter over well, you may believe, and as I have made up my mind there is no use in talking about it. You don't suppose Hampden is all Australia?"

"No, but it's one of the best bits upon the whole surface of it and that I'll live and die on," said Geordie. "Look at the soil and the climate. Didn't I go across the Murray to meet they store cattle, and wasna it nearly the death of me? Six weeks' hard sun, and never a drop of rain. And blight, and flies, and bush mosquiteys; why, I'd rather live here on a pound a week than have a good station there. Think o' the garden, too."

"Well, Geordie," said Jack, "all that's very well, but look at the size of the runs! Why, I saw 1,000 head of fat cattle coming past one station I stayed at, in one mob, splendid cattle too; bigger and better than any of our little drafts we think such a lot of. Besides, I don't mind heat, you know, and I'm bent on being a large stockholder, or none at all."

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Weel, weel!" said Geordie, "you will never be convinced. I know you'll just have your own way, but take care ye dinna gang the road to lose all the bonny place ye have worked hard for. The Lord keep ye from making

haste to be rich."

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'I know, I know," said Jack, testily; "but the Bible says nothing about changing your district. Abraham did that, you know, and evidently was getting crowded up where he was."

"Master John, you're not jestin' about God's Word! ye would never do the like o' that, I know, but Elsie and I will pray ye'll be properly directed--and Elspeth Stirling will be a sorrowful woman I know to stay behind, as she

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- Messrs. Itawe and Backwell bare zat passare in annombang the sale by aɔrtion, at an early period of which due Dodite will be given, of the station koern & Marshmead, in the Hampden district, with two thresend unwilly well-bred cattle of the JR brand. The main point of quality, is one of the best, in a celebrated fattening Ass The cattle are highly brei, carefully called and lay ahyys brought first-class prices at the metropolis sends The improvements are extensive, modern and compie. The only reason for selling this valuable property is that the proprietor contemplates leaving the colony."

"There," said Jack, laying down his enough-puffing won't sell a place, an of Marshmead, and of the J R cattle. haven't, they can ask. There's no g a first-class run. And now I'll see and turn in."

Next morning, considerably Jack declined to go out to telling him rather shortly

that's quit body's her ly. If t

ty in s

he thought of selling the place, and that it would be time to muster when they were delivering.

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"Going to sell the run!" gasped Geordie, perfectly aghast. Why, master, what ever put such a thing into your head? Where will ye find a bonnier place than this? and there's no such a herd of cattle in all the country round. Sell Marshmead! Why, you must have picked up that when in town."

"Never mind where I picked it up," said Jack, rather crossly; "I have thought the matter over well, you may believe, and as I have made up my mind there is no use in talking about it. You don't suppose Hampden is all Australia?"

"No, but it's one of the best bits upon the whole surface of it-and that I'll live and die on," said Geordie. "Look at the soil and the climate. Didn't I go across the Murray to meet they store cattle, and wasna it nearly the death of me? Six weeks' hard sun, and never a drop of rain. And blight, and flies, and bush mosquiteys; why, I'd rather live here on a pound a week than have a good station there. Think o' the garden, too."

"Well, Geordie," said Jack, "all that's very well, but look at the size of the runs! Why, I saw 1,000 head of fat cattle coming past one station I stayed at, in one mob, splendid cattle too; bigger and better than any of our little drafts we think such a lot of. Besides, I don't mind heat, you know, and I'm bent on being a large stockholder, or none at all."

"Weel, weel!" said Geordie, "you will never be convinced. I know you'll just have

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own way, but take the bonny place ye p ye from making

ily; "but the Bible strict. Abraham did ting crowded up where

about God's Word! ye know, but Elsie and I d--and Elspeth Stirling ow to stay behind, as she

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