"Isn’t she?  She has mothered those babies, kept house, cooked and washed, cut scrub, fenced and drained paddocks, put in crops, and broken in horses; and she can hardly sew on a button—decently, I mean; she ’clamps ’em on,’ she says; she has never made a pudding or a cake, never been to Church, and never ten miles from her home. She told me all the religion she had.  ’Mother learnt me to say prayers, so I says ’em; and I learnt the kids.  Father, he don’t care.  The kids goes to school, so they picked up more’n me; but I keep ’em up to the mark.  Mother said you say prayers to God, so that’s how I know He’s there, an’ that’s all there is about it—there’d have to be Some One somewhere, wouldn’t there—no get-out of that!"