Posted by Mr Beev on August 28, 2002, at 10:31:50
In reply to Mistah Kurtz, He Dead, posted by kid a on August 28, 2002, at 9:31:54
"Did I see it? I saw it. What more did I want?
What I really wanted was rivets, by heaven!
Rivets. To get on with the work - to stop the
hole. Rivets I wanted. There were cases of them
down at the coast, cases piled up - burst -
split! You kicked a loose rivet at every second
step in that station-yard on the hillside.
Rivets had rolled into the grove of death. You
could fill your pockets with rivets for the
trouble of stooping down - and there wasn't one
rivet to be found where it was wanted. We had
plates that would to, but nothing to fasten
them with. And every week the messenger, a
lone negro, letterbag on shoulder and staff
in hand, left our station for the coast. And
several times a week a coast caravan came in
with trade goods - ghastly glazed calico that
made you shudder only to look at it, glass beads
value about a penny a quart, confounded spotted
cotton handkerchiefs. And no rivets."
poster:Mr Beev
thread:29435
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20020820/msgs/29438.html