Page 34 - An Australian Lassie

"John, John, John, the grey goose is gone, The fox is away o'er the hill, Oh!"

and he thought how good it was to be a girl-- a goose-- a fox--anything but a boy!

Then he crept back to bed, covered up his head and began to cry. For he was afraid that Betty would be
hurt--and once again had he hung back when he should have gone forward. And his heart told him that again
he had been a coward.

Down by the willows John Brown was waiting. He had very much enjoyed issuing his "challenge" but he felt
morally certain that it would not be accepted. He was therefore surprised when he saw his small adversary
approaching him in the dusk.

Who shall say what fancies were running riot in his head! He was a squire going to punish a rash youth for
trying to thrust himself into their family. He, his grandfather's grandson, was going to thrash a foolish boy for
taking his grandfather's name in vain!

Meanwhile his little foe came on, over the rough sun-burnt grass, over a fallen tree through a small stretch of
denser scrub, to the very shores of the "coral island sea." And the baby-moon chose the moment of their
meeting to slip behind a cloud and leave the world in semi-darkness.

"Well done, Bruce!" said Brown coming forward and speaking in a hearty tone; "T didn't believe you'd
come--T didn't think you had a fight in you."

"We Bruces fight till we die!" piped Betty, and bit her lip to still its quivering.

Brown laughed. He detected the nervousness in his opponent's voice, and had fully expected it. Tf he had
found "Bruce" over-bold, he would have been surprised indeed. As it was, the reply in some way pleased him.

"Well," he said, "you're not going to fight me. I'm not in a fighting mood; T'm going to thrash you."

Betty caught her breath. Tt certainly entered into her mind to cry out and run away, but she did nothing of the
sort, she only clenched her hands, and stood her ground--having as usual a sufficiency of courage for the
occasion.

The next minute Brown's great hand had grasped her coat collar, and she felt herself swung round, stood down
and swung round again. Then a sharp swish lashed her once, twice, thrice.

Whereupon Betty began to fight on her own account, forgetting all the advice Fred Jones had given her about
"hitting out from the shoulder," etc. etc. She kicked Brown's legs with all the strength she could put into her
own. She pinched his wrists and his cheek, and lastly and to his disgust she set her sharp little teeth into his
hand.

He dropped her quickly, her hat rolled off, and down tumbled her short curly hair. And the moon chose that
moment to sail from under the cloud and put Betty's face in a soft silver light.

Brown whistled. "By Jove!" he said, the "sister."

Betty crammed her hat down upon her head again.

"T'm not," she said. "Tt's not! Tt's me, Cyril. Come on, coward, bully!"

She made a little rush at him, but Brown threw down his switch.