The history of a family and their friends who leave Devon and settle on farms in New South Wales, where a villain, formerly transported as a convict, turns up as head of a fiendish gang of bushrangers. The incidents are thrilling, the scenes of happy family life and the portraits of healthy, sterling character have a genuine fascination, and the glorious scenery of Gippsland is depicted with a vivid pen very different from Charles Kingsley's elaborate word-painting.
out before him with the ease and grace of a four-year-old, and making me regret that he wasn't my property and ten years younger;--altogether, even then, one of the finest horses of his class I had ever seen, and suddenly a thought came over me, and I grew animated.
"Major Buckley," I said, "what horse is that?"
"What horse is that?" repeated the major very slowly. "Why, my good fellow, old Widderin, to be sure."
"Bless me!" I said; "You don't mean to say that that old horse is alive still?"
"He looks like it," said the major. "He'd carry you a mile or two, yet."
"I thought he had died while I was in England," I said. "Ah, major, that horse's history would be worth writing."
"If you began," answered the major, "to write the history of the horse, you must write also the history of every body who was concerned in those circumstances which caused Sam to take a certain famous ride upon him. And you would find that the history of the horse would be reduced into very small compass, and that the re