By Efner Tudor Holmes
Experience the Magic of Christmas...
It is Christmas Eve. An deserted grey cat shivers by myself within the chilly, snowy wooded area. In a close-by farmhouse, a tender boy concerns that Santa Claus will not be in a position to are available in such undesirable climate. yet quickly the sour wind stops howling, and the sound of sleigh bells jewelry essentially during the woods. Neither the cat nor the boy is aware it, yet a small Christmas miracle is set to ensue. loved illustrator Tasha Tudor's vintage kind supplies this vacation story a undying appeal.
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Additional resources for Christmas Cats
I sat up late, and smoked, and thought hard, and watched Bill, and turned in, and thought till near daylight, and then went to sleep, and had a nightmare about it. I dreamed I chased Stiffner forty miles to buy his pub, and that Bill turned out to be his nephew. Bill divvied up all right, and gave me half a crown over, but I didn’t travel with him long after that. He was a decent young fellow as far as chaps go, and a good mate as far as mates go; but he was too far ahead for a peaceful, easy-going chap like me.
I never saw a rabbit laugh before; but I’ve seen a ‘possum do it. Hungerford consists of two houses and a humpy in New South Wales, and five houses in Queensland. Characteristically enough, both the pubs are in Queensland. We got a glass of sour yeast at one and paid sixpence for it — we had asked for English ale. The post office is in New South Wales, and the police-barracks in Bananaland. The police cannot do anything if there’s a row going on across the street in New South Wales, except to send to Brisbane and have an extradition warrant applied for; and they don’t do much if there’s a row in Queensland.
He scratched the back of his head, and thought a while, and hesitated like a stranger who is going to do you a favour at some personal inconvenience. At last, with the bored air of a man who has gone through the same performance too often before, he stepped deliberately up to the fence and spat over it into New South Wales. After which he got leisurely through and spat back on Queensland. ” he said. ” Then he went away. The last would have been a long spit — and he forgot Maoriland. ” Also find your own horse feed and tobacco and soap and other luxuries, at station prices.