Publisher's Synopsis
"Hallo! young lady, what on earth are you doing here?" and Gerrard bent down over his horse's shoulder, and looked inquiringly into the face of a small and exceedingly ill-clad girl of about ten years of age. "Nothing, sir, I only came out for a walk, and to get some pippies." "And where do you get them?" "Down there, sir, on the sand," and the child pointed with a strong, sun-browned hand to the beach, which was within a mile. "Eat them?" "Yes-they're lovely. Jim and I roast them in the stockman's kitchen when auntie has gone to bed." "And who is Jim?" "Jim Incubus; I'm Mary Incubus." "Mary what?" "Incubus, sir." Gerrard dismounted, and tying his reins to a stirrup, let his horse graze. Then taking his pipe out of his pocket, he filled and lit it, and motioned to the child to sit down beside him upon a fallen honeysuckle tree. "What is your auntie's name, my dear?" and he took the child's hand in his. "Mrs Elizabeth Westonley." "Ah! I thought so. Now, did you ever hear her talk of an Uncle Tom?" "Yes, sir," replied the child, wonderingly, "he's a cattleman in the Northern Territory."
