Little Snap The Postboy or Working for Uncle Sam
Kids, Fiction, Action/Adventure, Teen, Fiction & Literature, Action Suspense
| Author: | Victor St. Clair, George Waldo Browne | ISBN: | 1230001762846 |
| Publisher: | koumimi | Publication: | July 13, 2017 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Victor St. Clair, George Waldo Browne |
| ISBN: | 1230001762846 |
| Publisher: | koumimi |
| Publication: | July 13, 2017 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
"Has my letter come to-day?"
The dark bay horse—as fine a specimen of equine beauty and worth as ever came from the famed Blue Grass regions—ridden by the Postboy of the Kanawha, came to a standstill simultaneously with the utterance of the earnest, pleading tone, knowing in its almost human intelligence that its rider would be challenged at this particular spot and the question repeated which had been asked daily without variation for six months.
Little Snap had expected it, and on the watch, had discovered, a quarter of a mile back, a tall, gaunt figure clothed in skins and leaning heavily on a gnarled staff, standing by the wayside, under the shadows of a huge live oak.
An additional wildness was lent to the strange man's figure by the presence of a gray squirrel on either shoulder, while others gamboled at his feet, or ran up and down his lank form.
"Not to-day," replied the postboy, with an unusual softness in his voice; "not to-day, Uncle Solitaire." ...
"Has my letter come to-day?"
The dark bay horse—as fine a specimen of equine beauty and worth as ever came from the famed Blue Grass regions—ridden by the Postboy of the Kanawha, came to a standstill simultaneously with the utterance of the earnest, pleading tone, knowing in its almost human intelligence that its rider would be challenged at this particular spot and the question repeated which had been asked daily without variation for six months.
Little Snap had expected it, and on the watch, had discovered, a quarter of a mile back, a tall, gaunt figure clothed in skins and leaning heavily on a gnarled staff, standing by the wayside, under the shadows of a huge live oak.
An additional wildness was lent to the strange man's figure by the presence of a gray squirrel on either shoulder, while others gamboled at his feet, or ran up and down his lank form.
"Not to-day," replied the postboy, with an unusual softness in his voice; "not to-day, Uncle Solitaire." ...
