Read Online True History of the Kelly Gang by Peter Carey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Peter Carey
Tags: Fiction
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mouth and were reminded that my older sister could never see no hope or good in anything it werent her fault it were her nature.
You’re only 13 said she. You don’t know nothing about life.
Annie herself knew nothing except to fear every ant and spider but I didnt say nothing cruel to her. We had our own land and even when the sun went down and it turned out our mother had forgot to purchase matches and we must therefore retire to our dusty cribs with no more to fill our stomachs than a mixture of uncooked flour and creek water I still remained what is called an OPTIMIST and when our mother lay on her crib romancing about all the fine cattle we soon should own I seen no cause to doubt her.
Thus did time pass very happily through the winter and spring of 1868 I received a new blue shirt and corduroy trousers in a parcel my mother were given by Father Wall in Benalla these clothes belonged previously to a man knocked from a horse when nightriding. He were 18 yr. old when he died but his trousers fitted v. well.
My mother dug up my father’s bluchers these mighty boots was studded closely with nails and though the leather were cracked and hard I fast softened them with lard & mutton fat & Venetian turpentine a recipe given me by Mr Holmes a contractor. They was still a mite too large but when stuffed with fresh grass was not at all uncomfortable and as for their weight I never minded any load I carried in that 1st spring season at Eleven Mile Creek.
After dropping 3 trees in a day I could still find time to break a horse and while these 1st products was a little hard mouthed my younger brothers and sisters soon was riding to the school in Greta. Also I presented to Mother a handsome mare a thoroughbred with a touch of Arab. Once she rode it to mass in Benalla where the police tried to pretend it were stolen but having no case they was afterwards 1/2 hearted in pursuing it.
The spring rains begun early in September they was good and steady by the end of October the weather got gradually warmer and the cows proved productive in their new pasture. The police troubled us no more than they did other poor settlers in the district.
Annie’s chest were growing very womanly but she remained a baby so far as I could see with hardly a week going by when she didnt suffer some alarm that the police was about to raid us and carry our mother off to Melbourne Gaol.
I heard a horse said she one moonlight December night you could smell the perfumes of summer the dust and eucalyptus in the air. Theres some b––––r skulking around the hut she said.
Maggie said it were the new gelding causing trouble she were positive.
Its the adjectival police cried Annie I know it is.
I learned early that these alarms was best settled before my mother and Annie began going at one another. I were the man and it were therefore me who rose out of his crib to put them heavy bluchers on but even as I done so Annie were hissing like a goose about the brandy not being hid away. My mother told her shut her gob. Knocking the pegs out of the door I stepped out into the night.
There in the moonlight stood a man he were holding a specially tailored carbine in his right hand he wore a belt outside a bearskin coat which also held 2 big bright revolvers. I asked him what he wanted.
The man did not answer directly he were broad shouldered spade bearded and heavy jawed his black bearskin coat reaching down to his knees. This is a lonely place said he at last.
From inside the hut I heard a scraping sound as my mother armed herself with the hearth shovel. The man stooped to pluck some thistles and fed them to his horse I could clearly see he were a creature of his own design his white moleskins shone in the moonlight like robes in a stained glass window.
I told him if he had a shilling I would bring him out a good sized glass of grog.
And who might you be sonny Jim?
Ned Kelly.
You’re a little young to be running a shebeen Ned Kelly.
I help my mother
You’re only 13 said she. You don’t know nothing about life.
Annie herself knew nothing except to fear every ant and spider but I didnt say nothing cruel to her. We had our own land and even when the sun went down and it turned out our mother had forgot to purchase matches and we must therefore retire to our dusty cribs with no more to fill our stomachs than a mixture of uncooked flour and creek water I still remained what is called an OPTIMIST and when our mother lay on her crib romancing about all the fine cattle we soon should own I seen no cause to doubt her.
Thus did time pass very happily through the winter and spring of 1868 I received a new blue shirt and corduroy trousers in a parcel my mother were given by Father Wall in Benalla these clothes belonged previously to a man knocked from a horse when nightriding. He were 18 yr. old when he died but his trousers fitted v. well.
My mother dug up my father’s bluchers these mighty boots was studded closely with nails and though the leather were cracked and hard I fast softened them with lard & mutton fat & Venetian turpentine a recipe given me by Mr Holmes a contractor. They was still a mite too large but when stuffed with fresh grass was not at all uncomfortable and as for their weight I never minded any load I carried in that 1st spring season at Eleven Mile Creek.
After dropping 3 trees in a day I could still find time to break a horse and while these 1st products was a little hard mouthed my younger brothers and sisters soon was riding to the school in Greta. Also I presented to Mother a handsome mare a thoroughbred with a touch of Arab. Once she rode it to mass in Benalla where the police tried to pretend it were stolen but having no case they was afterwards 1/2 hearted in pursuing it.
The spring rains begun early in September they was good and steady by the end of October the weather got gradually warmer and the cows proved productive in their new pasture. The police troubled us no more than they did other poor settlers in the district.
Annie’s chest were growing very womanly but she remained a baby so far as I could see with hardly a week going by when she didnt suffer some alarm that the police was about to raid us and carry our mother off to Melbourne Gaol.
I heard a horse said she one moonlight December night you could smell the perfumes of summer the dust and eucalyptus in the air. Theres some b––––r skulking around the hut she said.
Maggie said it were the new gelding causing trouble she were positive.
Its the adjectival police cried Annie I know it is.
I learned early that these alarms was best settled before my mother and Annie began going at one another. I were the man and it were therefore me who rose out of his crib to put them heavy bluchers on but even as I done so Annie were hissing like a goose about the brandy not being hid away. My mother told her shut her gob. Knocking the pegs out of the door I stepped out into the night.
There in the moonlight stood a man he were holding a specially tailored carbine in his right hand he wore a belt outside a bearskin coat which also held 2 big bright revolvers. I asked him what he wanted.
The man did not answer directly he were broad shouldered spade bearded and heavy jawed his black bearskin coat reaching down to his knees. This is a lonely place said he at last.
From inside the hut I heard a scraping sound as my mother armed herself with the hearth shovel. The man stooped to pluck some thistles and fed them to his horse I could clearly see he were a creature of his own design his white moleskins shone in the moonlight like robes in a stained glass window.
I told him if he had a shilling I would bring him out a good sized glass of grog.
And who might you be sonny Jim?
Ned Kelly.
You’re a little young to be running a shebeen Ned Kelly.
I help my mother
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