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Roughing It

Roughing It

Author: Mark Twain
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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 1620    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

oseph was to hunt up the stage-office, and pay a hundred and fifty

Mountains, and no stove-pipe hats nor patent-leather boots, nor anything else necessary to make life calm and peaceful. We were reduced to a war-footing. Each of us put on a rough, heavy suit of clothing, woolen army shirt and "stogy" boots included; and into the valise we crowded a few white shirts, some under-clothing and such things. My brother, the Secretary, took along about four pounds of United States statutes and six pounds of Unabridged Dictionary; for we did not know-poor innocents-that such things could be bought in San Francisco on one day and received in Carson City the next. I was armed to the teeth with a pitiful little Smith & Wesson's seven-shooter, which car

ng the turning barrel and hit the thing aimed at was a feat which was probably never done with an "Allen" in the world. But George's was a reliable weapon, nevertheless, because, as one of the stage-drivers afterward said, "If she didn't get what she went after, she would fetch something else." And so she did. She went after a deuce of spades nailed against a tr

took none along but some pipes and five pounds of smoking tobacco. We had two large canteens to carry water in, between stations

all sorts of cares and responsibilities, that almost made us feel that the years we had spent in the close, hot city, toiling and slaving, had been wasted and thrown away. We were spinning along through Kansas, and in the course of an hour and a half we were fairly abroad on the great Plains. Just here the land was rolling-a grand sweep of regular elevations

express matter, and passengers. We three were the only passengers, this trip. We sat on the back seat, inside. About all the rest of the coach was full of mail bags-for we had three days' delayed mails with us. Almost touching our knees, a perpendicular wall of mail matter rose up to the roof. There was a g

lowed by an earthquake, we guessed that his remark was intended to be facetious, and to mean that we would u

e hard, level road. We jumped out and stretched our legs every time the

oting into her arm, and slowly she would raise her other hand till she had got his range, and then she would launch a slap at him that would have jolted a cow; and after that she would sit and contemplate the corpse with tranquil satisfaction-for she never missed her mosquito; she wa

re pretty bad, ab

u b

derstand you t

u B

d up, and faced

keeters and wonderin' what was ailin' ye. Fust I thot you was deef and dumb, then I thot you was sick or crazy, or suthin', an

forty days and forty nights, metaphorically speaking, and buried us under a desolating deluge of trivial gossip that left

ito question and gave her a start. She never did stop again until she got to her journey's end toward dayli

now and then, I'm right thar. Folks'll tell you't I've always ben kind o' offish and partic'lar for a gal that's raised in the woods, and I am, with the rag-tag

t to "lay by a

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