Bring your tackle. Di'll show you where to sling it." That set the tone for the weekend. Mr. Prince was a thin, tired man. He was more interested in f...od and such than in anything else. He said he was considering selling up – developers were interested."Because of Banjo?" I asked."Yes. There was a movie and now folks are more interested in him. We read some of his poems when I was at school." "Most likely sang at least one." "Eh?" "Banjo Paterson wrote 'Waltzing Mathilda'." "Garn!," Mrs. Prince. ”“Come on, I really like this guy,” Julie pleaded.“So let me understand this,” Warren responded smiling, “You don't want me having my friends over, but you want me to be nice to some guy you're bringing over?”Julie didn't respond, she simply slammed her hand into the coffee table and got up to leave.“Whoa, whoa, chill,” Warren began, “I didn't say I wouldn't do it. Just remember that this time you owe me.”Julie simply smiled. “Thanks,” she said, in what came out as an obnoxious voice. And then. More

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