"This is a sort of hospital day for us," he said. "You’ve been trying to drown yourself and fill the lake with cold pork, and the Missus has been setting broken legs until her brain reeled.  And Garth has been cook and bottle-washer, and what the family would have done without him I tremble to think.  He even made Horrors hurry, and I guess you know what sort of a job _that_ would be, ’Possum! Horrors showed signs of swooning from overwork and brain-fag by the time Garth had finished with him. The missus will tell you all about it.  Now I’m off to talk to that calf, with Bill.  Come along, Bill. I don’t think the calf likes a crowd any more than I do when I’ve medicine to take."  He took the calf’s rejected bottle, to which ’Possum had clung instinctively, and went out, Bill at his heels.