|
||||||||
good horses. I wouldnt vex our people for anything; I love them, I do, said Merrylegs, and he gave a low ho, ho, ho! through his nose, as he used to do in the morning when he heard James footstep at the door. Besides, he went on, if I took to kicking where should I be? Why, sold off in a jiffy, and no character, and I might find myself slaved about under a butchers boy, or worked to death at some seaside place where no one cared for me, except to find out how fast I could go, or be flogged along in some cart with three or four great men in it going out for a Sunday spree, as I have often seen in the place I lived in before I came here; no, said he, shaking his head, I hope I shall never come to that. |
||||||||
|
||||||||
|
||||||||
Copyright: All texts on Bibliomania are © Bibliomania.com Ltd, and may not be reproduced in any form without our written permission. See our FAQ for more details. | ||||||||