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Remington, Frederic, 1861-1909

"Crooked Trails"


"How do you fancy this?" we asked the attorney-at-law.
"I am not going to deliver an opinion until I get ashore. I would never
have believed that I would be here at my time of life, but one never
knows what a---- fool one can make of one's self. My glasses are covered
with water, and I can hardly see, but I can't let go of this paddle to
wipe them," shrieked the man of the office chair, in the howl of the
weather.
But we made a long journey by the aid of the wind, and grew a contempt
for it. How could one imagine the stability of those little boats until
one had tried it?
That night we put into a natural harbor and camped on a gravel beach.
The tents were up and the supper cooking, when the wind hauled and blew
furiously into our haven. The fires were scattered and the rain came in
blinding sheets. The tent-pegs pulled from the sand. We sprang to our
feet and held on to the poles, wet to the skin. It was useless; the rain
blew right under the canvas. We laid the tents on the "grub" and stepped
out into the dark. We could not be any wetter, and we did not care. To
stand in the dark in the wilderness, with nothing to eat, and a
fire-engine playing a hose on you for a couple of hours--if you have
imagination enough, you can fill in the situation. But the gods were
propitious. The wind died down. The stars came out by myriads. The fires
were relighted, and the ordinary life begun.


Pages:
107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131
nieruchomości kraków
Skuteczne pozycjonowanie
Arteria - Twój klucz do sukcesu
druk plakatów
drukarnia reklamowa
bielizna
bielizna
pozycjonowanie
skutecznie i profesjonalnie