Just a fortnight before Christmas, 1871, a young man, twenty-four
years of age, returned home to his dinner about eight o'clock in the
evening.  He was married, and with him and his wife lived his wife's
sister.  At that somewhat late hour he walked in among the two young
women, and another much older woman who was preparing the table for
dinner.  The wife and the wife's sister each had a child in her lap,
the elder having seen some fifteen months of its existence, and the
younger three months.  "He has been out since seven, and I don't think
he's had a mouthful," the wife had just said.  "Oh, Harry, you must be
half starved," she exclaimed, jumping up to greet him, and throwing
her arm round his bare neck. 

"I'm about whole melted," he said, as he kissed her.  "In the name of
charity give me a nobbler.  I did get a bit of damper and a pannikin
of tea up at the German's hut; but I never was so hot or so thirsty
in my life.  We're going to have it in earnest this time.  Old Bates
says that when the gum leaves crackle, as they do now, before
Christmas, there won't be a blade of grass by the end of February." 

"I hate Old Bates," said the wife.  "He always prophesies evil, and