On a Selection 5 l 



picnics happily under some shady gum tree. The 

 sports provide plenty of excitement, and if the 

 selector's driving on the homeward way is reck- 

 less and erratic, well, it is not often he meets so 

 many old friends on one day. Show Day is an- 

 other bush holiday very generally observed. 

 There is much competition at that time in live 

 stock of all kinds, and prizes may be won by 

 housewives proud of their home-baked bread or 

 their home-cured bacon and hams. The country 

 is looking its best at show time, for shows are 

 held in the early spring, when there are hopes of 

 good crops and a plentiful increase of live stock 

 and poultry. These are the interludes that break 

 the monotony of the selector's life, and prevent 

 him from losing touch with old friends, and be- 

 coming soured by the anxieties, disappointments, 

 and losses he has so constantly to face. 



Each summer brings for him its harassing dread 

 of bush fires. He watches the grass turn brown 

 beneath the scorching sun, and counts the days 

 until his standing crop shall be ready for harvest. 

 The passing swagman is an object of painful in- 

 terest, for a carelessly dropped match or a camp 

 fire left unextinguished may precipitate a disaster. 

 At last, the wheat is cut and stacked in stooks 

 about the paddock, and the cockie works fever- 

 ishly to get it carted away to the thrashing- 

 machine at work in the nearest township. Then 

 he breathes more freely, though he has still much 

 to lose. The earth cracks with the summer heat, 



