"You ask me what I think about sending Ned out here. Well, there's no opening that I can see for a gym. But work, that's another question, there's more than enough. I am at work at a place called Gum Tree Valley, clearing, but we came up to Tom's Aunt's place last week, to help, and we've been shearing. At least I haven't. I've been the chap who tars. You splash tar on like paint when the shearers make a misfire and gash the poor brutes and curse you. Lord, don't they curse, if the boss isn't round. He's got a grey beard and dribbles on it, and the flies get caught in it and buzz as if it was a spider's web. He makes everyone work from mom till night like the Devil. Gosh, if it wasn't that it is only for a short spell, I'd get. Don't you worry, up-country folk know how to get your tucker's worth out of you all right Today the Sabbath we had a rest.--I don't think! We washed our clothes. Talk about a goodly pile! Only a rumour. For the old man fetched along his vests and pants, and greasy overalls and aprons, his socks, his slimy hanks and night-shirt Imagine our horror. He's Tom's Aunt's husband, and has no sons only herds of daughters, so we had to do it. We scrubbed 'em with horse-brushes on the stones. Jinks, but I rubbed some holes in 'em!
"But cheer up. I'm not grumbling. I like getting experience as it is called.
"I mean to take up land and have a place of my own some day, then you and Ned could visit me and we could have some fun with the gloves. Lennie says I'm like a kangaroo shaping and punching at nothing, so I got a cow's bladder and blew it up and tied it to a branch, and I batter on it. Must have something to hit. You know kangaroos shape up and make a punch. They are pretty doing that. We have a baby one, Joey, and it takes a cup in its little hands and drinks. Honest to God it's got hands, you never saw such a thing.
"Kindest regards to your old woman and Ned. Lord only knows how I've missed you, and pray that some day I will be fortunate enough to meet you again. Until then.
"A Merry Xmas and a Glad New Year, by the time you get this. Think of me in the broiling heat battling with sheep, their Boss, and the flies, and you'll think of me true.
As the time for returning from camp drew near, Jack dwelt more and more on this question of the future--of taking up land. He wished so often that life could always be a matter of camping, land-clearing, kangaroo hunting, shearing, and generally messing about. But deep underneath himself he knew it couldn't: not for him at least. Plenty of fellows lived all their life messing from camp to camp and station to station. But himself--sooner or later he would have to bite on to something. He'd have to plunge in to that cold water of responsible living, some time or other.