Chapter XII.
Kate's Wedding.
Our selection was a great place for dancing. We could all dance--fromDan down--and there was n't a figure or a movement we did n't know. Welearned young. Mother was a firm believer in early tuition. She usedto say it was nice for young people to know how to dance, and be ableto take their part when they went out anywhere, and not be awkward andstupid-looking when they went into society. It was awful, she thought,to see young fellows and big lumps of girls like the Bradys stalk intoa ballroom and sit the whole night long in a corner, without attemptingto get up. She did n't know how mothers COULD bring children up soignorantly, and did n't wonder at some of them not being able to findhusbands for their daughters.
But we had a lot to feel thankful for. Besides a sympathetic mother,every other facility was afforded us to become accomplished. Abundanceof freedom; enthusiastic sisters; and no matter how things weregoing--whether the corn would n't come up, or the wheat had failed, orthe pumpkins had given out, or the water-hole run dry--we always had aconcertina in the house. It never failed to attract company. PaddyMaloney and the well-sinkers, after belting and blasting all day long,used to drop in at night, and throw the table outside, and take thegirls up, and prance about the floor with them till all hours.
Nearly every week Mother gave a ball. It might have been every nightonly for Dad. He said the jumping about destroyed theground-floor--wore it away and made the room like a well. And wheneverit rained hard and the water rushed in he had to bail it out. Dadalways looked on the dark side of things. He had no ear for musiceither. His want of appreciation of melody often made the homemiserable when it might have been the merriest on earth. Sometimes ithappened that he had to throw down the plough-reins for half-an-hour orso to run round the wheat-paddock after a horse or an old cow; then, ifhe found Dave, or Sal, or any of us, sitting inside playing theconcertina when he came to get a drink, he would nearly go mad.
"Can't y' find anything better t' do than everlastingly playing at thatdamn thing?" he would shout. And if we did n't put the instrument downimmediately he would tear it from our hands and pitch it outside. Ifwe DID lay it down quietly he would snatch it up and heave it out justas hard. The next evening he would devote all his time to patching thefragments together with sealing-wax.
Still, despite Dad's antagonism, we all turned out good players. Itcost us nothing either. We learnt from each other. Kate was the firstthat learnt. SHE taught Sal. Sal taught Dave, and so on. SandyTaylor was Kate's tutor. He passed our place every evening going tohis selection, where he used to sleep at night (fulfilling conditions),and always stopped at the fence to yarn with Kate about dancing. Sandywas a fine dancer himself, very light on his feet and easy to waltzwith--so the girls made out. When the dancing subject was exhaustedSandy would drag some hair out of his horse's mane and say, "How's theconcertina?" "It's in there," Kate would answer. Then turning roundshe would call out, "J--OE, bring the concer'."
In an instant Joe would strut along with it. And Sandy, for thefiftieth time, would examine it and laugh at the kangaroo-skin strapsthat Dave had tacked to it, and the scraps of brown paper that wereplastered over the ribs of it to keep the wind in; and, cocking hisleft leg over the pommel of his saddle, he would sound a full blast onit as a preliminary. Then he would strike up "The Rocky Road toDublin", or "The Wind Among the Barley,", or some other beautiful air,and grind away untiringly until it got dark--until mother came andasked him if he would n't come in and have supper. Of course, healways would. After supper he would play some more. Then there wouldbe a dance.
A ball was to be held at Anderson's one Friday night, and only Kate andDave were asked from our place. Dave was very pleased to be invited;it was the first time he had been asked anywhere, and he began topractise vigorously. The evening before the ball Dad sent him to putthe draught horses in the top paddock. He went off merrily with them.The sun was just going down when he let them go, and save the noise ofthe birds settling to rest the paddock was quiet. Dave was filled withemotion and enthusiastic thoughts about the ball.
He threw the winkers down and looked around. For a moment or two hestood erect, then he bowed gracefully to the saplings on his right,then to the stumps and trees on his left, and humming a tune, ambledacross a small patch of ground that was bare and black, and prancedback again. He opened his arms and, clasping some beautiful imaginaryform in them, swung round and round like a windmill. Then he pausedfor breath, embraced his partner again, and "galloped" up and down.And young Johnson, who had been watching him in wonder from behind afence, bolted for our place.
"Mrs. Rudd! Mrs. Rudd!" he shouted from the verandah. Mother went out.
"Wot's--wot's up with Dave?"
Mother turned pale.
"There's SOMETHING--!"
"My God!" Mother exclaimed--"WHATEVER has happened?"
Young Johnson hesitated. He was in doubt.
"Oh! What IS it?" Mother moaned.
"Well" (he drew close to her) "he's--he's MAD!"
"OH-H!"
"He IS. I seen 'im just now up in your paddick, an' he's clean offhe's pannikin."
Just then Dave came down the track whistling. Young Johnson saw himand fled.
For some time Mother regarded Dave with grave suspicion, then shequestioned him closely.
"Yairs," he said, grinning hard, "I was goin' through th' FUST SET."
It was when Kate was married to Sandy Taylor that we realised what ablessing it is to be able to dance. How we looked forward to thatwedding! We were always talking about it, and were very pleased itwould be held in our own house, because all of us could go then. Noneof us could work for thinking of it--even Dad seemed to forget histroubles about the corn and Mick Brennan's threat to summon him forhalf the fence. Mother said we would want plenty of water for thepeople to drink, so Sandy yoked his horse to the slide, and he, Dad,and Joe started for the springs.
The slide was the fork of a tree, alias a wheel-less water-trolly. Thehorse was hitched to the butt end, and a batten nailed across theprongs kept the cask from slipping off going uphill. Sandy led the wayand carried the bucket; Dad went ahead to clear the track of stones;and Joe straddled the cask to keep her steady.
It always took three to work the slide.
The water they brought was a little thick--old Anderson had been downand stirred it up pulling a bullock out; but Dad put plenty ashes inthe cask to clear it.
Each of us had his own work to do. Sandy knocked the partition downand decorated the place with boughs; Mother and the girls cooked andcovered the walls with newspapers, and Dad gathered cow-dung and didthe floor.
Two days before the wedding. All of us were still working hard. Dadwas up to his armpits in a bucket of mixture, with a stack of cow-dungon one side, and a heap of sand and the shovel on the other. Dave andJoe were burning a cow that had died just in front of the house, andSandy had gone to town for his tweed trousers.
A man in a long, black coat, white collar, and new leggings rode up,spoke to Dad, and got off. Dad straightened up and looked awkward,with his arms hanging wide and the mixture dripping from them. Mothercame out. The cove shook hands with her, but he did n't with Dad. Theywent inside--not Dad, who washed himself first.
Dave sent Joe to ask Dad who the cove was. Dad spoke in a whisper andsaid he was Mr. Macpherson, the clergyman who was to marry Kate andSandy. Dave whistled and piled more wood on the dead cow. Mother cameout and called Dave and Joe. Dave would n't go, but sent Joe.
Dave threw another log on the cow, then thought he would see what wasgoing on inside.
He stood at the window and looked in. He could n't believe his eyes atfirst, and put his head right in. There were Dad, Joe, and the lot ofthem down on their marrow-bones saying something after the parson.Dave was glad that he did n't go in.
How the parson prayed! Just when he said "Lead us not into temptation"the big kangaroo-dog slipped in and grabbed all the fresh meat on t
hetable; but Dave managed to kick him in the ribs at the door. Dadgroaned and seemed very restless.
When the parson had gone Dad said that what he had read about "reapingthe same as you sow" was all rot, and spoke about the time when wesowed two bushels of barley in the lower paddock and got a big stack ofrye from it.
The wedding was on a Wednesday, and at three o'clock in the afternoon.Most of the people came before dinner; the Hamiltons arrived just afterbreakfast. Talk of drays!--the little paddock could n't hold them.
Jim Mullins was the only one who came in to dinner; the others mostlysat on their heels in a row and waited in the shade of the wire-fence.The parson was the last to come, and as he passed in he knocked hishead against the kangaroo-leg hanging under the verandah. Dad saw itswinging, and said angrily to Joe: "Did n't I tell you to take thatdown this morning?"
Joe unhooked it and said: "But if I hang it anywhere else the dog'llget it."
Dad tried to laugh at Joe, and said, loudly, "And what else is it for?"Then he bustled Joe off before he could answer him again.
Joe did n't understand.
Then Dad said (putting the leg in a bag): "Do you want everyone toknow we eat it, ---- you?"
Joe understood.
The ceremony commenced. Those who could squeeze inside did so--theothers looked in at the window and through the cracks in the chimney.
Mrs. M'Doolan led Kate out of the back-room; then Sandy rose from thefire-place and stood beside her. Everyone thought Kate looked verynice----and orange blossoms! You'd think she was an orange-tree with anew bed-curtain thrown over it. Sandy looked well, too, in hissnake-belt and new tweeds; but he seemed uncomfortable when the pinthat Dave put in the back of his collar came out.
The parson did n't take long; and how they scrambled and tumbled overeach other at the finish! Charley Mace said that he got the firstkiss; Big George said HE did; and Mrs. M'Doolan was certain she wouldhave got it only for the baby.
Fun! there WAS fun! The room was cleared and they promenaded for adance--Sandy and Kate in the lead. They continued promenading untilone of the well-sinkers called for the concertina--ours had beenrepaired till you could get only three notes out of it; but Jim Burkejumped on his horse and went home for his accordion.
Dance! they did dance!--until sun-rise. But unless you were dancingyou could n't stay inside, because the floor broke up, and talk aboutdust!--before morning the room was like a drafting-yard.
It was a great wedding; and though years have since passed, all theneighbours say still it was the best they were ever at.