|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Tales of the Klondyke by Jack London: and wet. I tell you straight, Yankee-men are made of different
stuff. They'd be hitting the trail for Dawson if they had to wade
through hell-fire. And you, you--I wish I was a man."
"I'm very glad, my dear, that you're not." Dick Humphries threw
the bight of the sail twine over the point of the needle and drew
it clear with a couple of deft turns and a jerk.
A snort of the gale dealt the tent a broad-handed slap as it
hurtled past, and the sleet rat-tat-tatted with snappy spite
against the thin canvas. The smoke, smothered in its exit, drove
back through the fire-box door, carrying with it the pungent odor
of green spruce.
|
