Format: Single
It was a pitchy black night, as stifling as a June night can be, and the loo, the red-hot wind from the westward, was booming among the tinder-dry trees and pretending that the rain was on its heels. Now and again a spot of almost boiling water would fall on the dust with the flop of a frog, but all our weary world knew that was only pretence… |
This is from “The Man who Would be King” in Wee Willie Winkie and other stories. The Assistant Editor is in the press-room waiting until all is ready to set the presses rolling. Soon two adventurers will appear, and tell a fantastical tale of their plans for glory… |
|