My Brilliant Career - Miles Franklin (no david read aloud txt) 📗

I could take Frank with me in the buggy, ride, or stay at home. I preferred driving. Accordingly the fat horses were harnessed to the buggy, and with many injunctions to be careful and not forget the parcels, we set out. Frank Hawden’s presence spoilt it all, but I determined to soon make short work of him.

There was one gate to go through, about four miles from the house. Frank Hawden got out to open it. I drove through, and while he was pushing it to, laid the whip on the horses and went off full tilt. He ran after me shouting all manner of things that I could not hear on account of the rattle of the buggy. One horse began kicking up, so, to give him no time for further pranks, I drove at a good round gallop, which quickly left the lovable jackeroo a speck in the distance. The dust rose in thick clouds, the stones rattled from the whirling wheels, the chirr! chirr! of a myriad cicadas filled the air, and the white road glistened in the dazzling sunlight. I was enjoying myself tip-top, and chuckled to think of the way I had euchred Frank Hawden. It was such a good joke that I considered it worth two of the blowings-up I was sure of getting from grannie for my conduct.

It was not long before I fetched up at Dogtrap homestead, where, tethered to the “six-foot” paling fence which surrounded the flower-garden, was Harold Beecham’s favourite, great, black, saddle-horse Warrigal. The vicious brute turned his beautiful head, displaying a white star on the forehead, and snorted as I approached. His master appeared on the veranda raising his soft panama hat, and remarking, “Well I never! You’re not by yourself, are you?”

“I am. Would you please tell Mrs. Butler to bring out grannie’s parcels and post at once. I’m afraid to dawdle, it’s getting late.”

He disappeared to execute my request and reappeared in less than a minute.

“Mr. Beecham, please would you examine Barney’s harness. Something must be hurting him. He has been kicking up all the way.”

Examining the harness and noticing the sweat that was dripping from the animals, panting from their run, he said:

“It looks as though you’ve been making the pace a cracker. There is nothing that is irritating Barney in the least. If he’s putting on any airs it is because he is frisky and not safe for you to drive. How did Julius happen to let you away by yourself?”

“I’m not frightened,” I replied.

“I see you’re not. You’d be game to tackle a pair of wild elephants, I know, but you must remember you’re not much bigger than a sparrow sitting up there, and I won’t let you go back by yourself.”

“You cannot stop me.”

“I can.”

“You can’t.”

“I can.”

“You can’t.”

“I can.”

“How?”

“I’m going with you,” he said.

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

“You ar-r-re not.”

“I am.”

“You are, ar-r-re not.”

“We’ll see whether I will or not in a minute or two,” he said with amusement.

“But, Mr. Beecham, I object to your company. I am quite capable of taking care of myself; besides, if you come home with me I will not be allowed out alone again⁠—it will be altogether unpleasant for me.”

Mrs. Butler now appeared with the mail and some parcels, and Harold stowed them in the buggy.

“You’d better come in an’ ’ave a drop of tay-warter, miss, the kittle’s bilin’; and I have the table laid out for both of yez.”

“No, thank you, Mrs. Butler. I can’t possibly stay today, it’s getting late. I must hurry off. Goodbye! Good afternoon, Mr. Beecham.”

I turned my buggy and pair smartly round and was swooping off. Without a word Harold was at their heads and seized the reins. He seized his horse’s bridle, where it was over the paling, and in a moment had him tied on the offside of Barney, then stepping quietly into the buggy he put me away from the driver’s seat as though I were a baby, quietly took the reins and whip, raised his hat to Mrs. Butler, who was smiling knowingly, and drove off.

I was highly delighted with his action, as I would have despised him as a booby had he given in to me, but I did not let my satisfaction appear. I sat as far away from him as possible, and pretended to be in a great huff. For a while he was too fully occupied in making Barney “sit up” to notice me, but after a few minutes he looked round, smiling a most annoying and pleasant smile.

“I’d advise you to straighten out your chin. It is too round and soft to look well screwed up that way,” he said provokingly.

I tried to extinguish him with a look, but it had not the desired effect.

“Now you had better be civil, for I have got the big end of the whip,” he said.

“I reserve to myself the right of behaving as I think fit in my own uncle’s buggy. You are an intruder; it is yourself that should be civil.”

I erected my parasol and held it so as to tease Harold. I put it down so that he could not see the horses. He quietly seized my wrist and held it out of his way for a time, and then loosing me said, “Now, behave.”

I flouted it now, so that his ears and eyes were endangered, and he was forced to hold his hat on.

“I’ll give you three minutes to behave, or I’ll put you out,” he said with mock severity.

“Shure it’s me wot’s behavin’ beautiful,” I replied, continuing my nonsense.

He pulled rein, seized me in one arm, and lifted me lightly to the ground.

“Now, you can walk till you promise to conduct yourself like a Christian!” he said, driving at a walk.

“If you wait till I promise anything, you’ll wait till the end of the century. I’m quite capable of walking home.”

“You’ll soon get tired of walking in this heat, and your feet will he blistered in a mile with those bits of paper.”

The bits of paper to