|12-29-2009, 06:31 PM||#1|
Join Date: Apr 2008
Location: Alabama, USA
Device: HP ipac RX5915 Wife's Kindle
Lawson, Henry: Over the Sliprails. V1. 29 Dec 2009
There were about a dozen of us jammed into the coach, on the box seat and hanging on to the roof and tailboard as best we could. We were shearers, bagmen, agents, a squatter, a cockatoo, the usual joker—and one or two professional spielers, perhaps. We were tired and stiff and nearly frozen—too cold to talk and too irritable to risk the inevitable argument which an interchange of ideas would have led up to. We had been looking forward for hours, it seemed, to the pub where we were to change horses. For the last hour or two all that our united efforts had been able to get out of the driver was a grunt to the effect that it was "'bout a couple o' miles." Then he said, or grunted, "'Tain't fur now," a couple of times, and refused to commit himself any further; he seemed grumpy about having committed himself that far.
Last edited by crutledge; 12-30-2009 at 04:20 PM.
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|Short Fiction Lawson, Henry: Over the Sliprails. V1. 29 Dec 2009||crutledge||Kindle Books||0||12-29-2009 06:32 PM|
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