"You'll see me within a fortnight, bar accidents" he called back, as the
waggon lurched forward towards the slip-rails; and the pub also having
little attraction for the Dandy, we decided to expect him, "bar
accidents." For that matter, a pub had little attraction for any of the
Elsey men, the Quiet Stockman being a total abstainer, and Dan knowing
"how to behave himself," although he owned to having "got a bit merry
once or twice."
The Dandy out of sight, Johnny went back to his work, which happened to
be hammering the curves out of sheets of corrugated iron.
"Now we shan't be long," he shouted, hammering vigorously, and when I
objected to the awful din, he reminded me, with a grin, that it was "all
in the good cause." When "smoothed out," as Johnny phrased it, the iron
was to be used for capping the piles that the house was built upon, "to
make them little white ants stay at home."
"We'll smooth all your troubles out, if you give us time," he shouted,
returning to the hammering after his explanation with even greater
energy. But by dinnertime some one had waddled into our lives who was to
smooth most of the difficulties out of it, to his own, and our complete
satisfaction.
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