Australian Tales - Setis

The magpies, which perched on the swamp oaks at the back of his house,
and awoke him at morning dawn with their wild music, whistled Phoebe
Skimmer, Phoebe Skimmer! as plainly as magpies could articulate: the
curlews, which sometimes flew high over his dwelling at midnight, when
a gale was brewing in the eastern sky, screeched Phoebe Skimmer,
Phoebe Skimmer! The frogs on the flats that skirted her home, croaked
the same sweet name, as musically as hurdy-gurdies; and even the sharp
nosed mosquitos, which hovered about his ears just as he was dozing off
to sleep, seemed to chant Phoebe, pretty Phoebe!
“Phoebe must be moine,” quoth Jonathan, in a positive mood one
evening, just as the six o'clock bell began to ring; at the same time he
flung down his spade, and walked towards the house to partake of his
solitary meal. “Phoebe must be moine, or my heart wull pretty soon split
open loike a ripe apricot; barn'd if it woarnt. A notion has wriggled into
my head whilst I a been diggin up them kidney tatees; and dash my
buttons if I doant think it wull just settle the thing roight off, without any
more bother. At all events, there bean't no harm in trying, as the
Lancashire chap said when he took a job at mowing beans, and cut his
toe big off the first stroke.”
Lest I should make my story tedious, I will not detail Jonathan's
cogitations in his own provincial dialect, but briefly explain that the plan
which he had been pondering in his little spherical skull, was in the first
place to ask Phoebe to accompany him on an excursion the following
Friday — which was a general holiday — to “Kissing Point.” He had
never been there, but had heard that it was a romantic place; indeed, there
was something in its very name which suggested enjoyment, such as he
sighed for; and he hoped that when there, he might be inspired with
courting ideas, and also with courage to declare them like a man, and
thus end his suspense, and set his love-laden heart at ease. After a hasty
supper he put off his hobnailed boots, put on his best kangaroo bluchers,
and away he went in the cool of the evening towards Syllabub Swamp,
which, by-the-bye, was the name of Mr. Skimmer's location.
He met with the usual cordial reception from the dairyman and his
daughter; to the latter he presented a pocketfull of Jerusalem artichokes,
and directed her how to cook them. While smoking a pipe in the kitchen
half-an-hour afterwards, he asked Mr. Skimmer to allow Phoebe to
accompany him on the ensuing Friday for a little bit of a jaunt in the
country, as he hadn't had a holiday since the day he first landed in
Sydney. Mr. Skimmer offered no objection, and Phoebe was most
willing, provided her father would manage her milk properly, and serve
her afternoon customers, which he cheerfully promised to do; so the
matter was soon settled, and after a little more friendly gossip, Jonathan
returned home highly pleased that his happy plan had so far succeeded.
On Friday morning he was up before the magpies began to sing; and