Robbery Under Arms

Name: Robbery Under Arms
Brand: WDS Publishing
SKU: 1687151

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1714839Robbery Under Armshttps://www.gandhi.com.mx/robbery-under-arms-5/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/1380268/ed928c63-5688-4959-bf71-24e80e31fe80.jpg?v=6383379942787300006161MXNWDS PublishingInStock/Ebooks/My names Dick Marston, Sydney-side native. Im twenty-nine years old, six feet in my stocking soles, and thirteen stone weight. Pretty strong and active with it, so they say. I dont want to blow -- not here, any road -- but it takes a good man to put me on my back, or stand up to me with the gloves, or the naked mauleys. I can ride anything -- anything that ever was lapped in horsehide -- swim like a musk-duck, and track like a Myall blackfellow. Most things that a man can do Im up to, and thats all about it. As I lift myself now I can feel the muscle swell on my arm like a cricket ball, in spite of the -- well, in spite of everything.The morning sun comes shining through the window bars; and ever since he was up have I been cursing the daylight, cursing myself, and them that brought me into the world. Did I curse mother, and the hour I was born into this miserable life?Why should I curse the day? Why do I lie here, groaning; yes, crying like a child, and beating my head against the stone floor? I am not mad, though I am shut up in a cell. No. Better for me if I was. But its all up now; theres no get away this time; and I, Dick Marston, as strong as a bullock, as active as a rock-wallaby, chock-full of life and spirits and health, have been tried for bush-ranging -- robbery under arms they call it -- and though the blood runs through my veins like the water in the mountain creeks, and every bit of bone and sinew is as sound as the day I was born, I must die on the gallows this day month.Die -- die -- yes, die; be strung up like a dog, as they say. Im blessed if ever I did know of a dog being hanged, though, if it comes to that, a shot or a bait generally makes an end of em in this country. Ha, ha! Did I laugh? What a rum thing it is that a man should have a laugh in him when hes only got twenty-nine days more to live -- a day for every year of my life. Well, laughing or crying, this is what it has come to at last....1687151Robbery Under Arms6161https://www.gandhi.com.mx/robbery-under-arms-5/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/1380268/ed928c63-5688-4959-bf71-24e80e31fe80.jpg?v=638337994278730000InStockMXN99999DIEbook20131230000141978_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_ My names Dick Marston, Sydney-side native.  Im twenty-nine years old, six feet in my stocking soles, and thirteen stone weight. Pretty strong and active with it, so they say.  I dont want to blow -- not here, any road -- but it takes a good man to put me on my back, or stand up to me with the gloves, or the naked mauleys. I can ride anything -- anything that ever was lapped in horsehide -- swim like a musk-duck, and track like a Myall blackfellow. Most things that a man can do Im up to, and thats all about it. As I lift myself now I can feel the muscle swell on my arm like a cricket ball, in spite of the -- well, in spite of everything. The morning sun comes shining through the window bars; and ever since he was up have I been cursing the daylight, cursing myself, and them that brought me into the world.  Did I curse mother, and the hour I was born into this miserable life? Why should I curse the day?  Why do I lie here, groaning; yes, crying like a child, and beating my head against the stone floor? I am not mad, though I am shut up in a cell.  No.  Better for me if I was. But its all up now; theres no get away this time; and I, Dick Marston, as strong as a bullock, as active as a rock-wallaby, chock-full of life and spirits and health, have been tried for bush-ranging -- robbery under arms they call it -- and though the blood runs through my veins like the water in the mountain creeks, and every bit of bone and sinew is as sound as the day I was born, I must die on the gallows this day month. Die -- die -- yes, die; be strung up like a dog, as they say. Im blessed if ever I did know of a dog being hanged, though, if it comes to that, a shot or a bait generally makes an end of em in this country.  Ha, ha!  Did I laugh?  What a rum thing it is that a man should have a laugh in him when hes only got twenty-nine days more to live -- a day for every year of my life. Well, laughing or crying, this is what it has come to at last.  (*_*)1230000141978_My names Dick Marston, Sydney-side native. Im twenty-nine years old, six feet in my stocking soles, and thirteen stone weight. Pretty strong and active with it, so they say. I dont want to blow -- not here, any road -- but it takes a good man to put me on my back, or stand up to me with the gloves, or the naked mauleys. I can ride anything -- anything that ever was lapped in horsehide -- swim like a musk-duck, and track like a Myall blackfellow. Most things that a man can do Im up to, and thats all about it. As I lift myself now I can feel the muscle swell on my arm like a cricket ball, in spite of the -- well, in spite of everything.The morning sun comes shining through the window bars; and ever since he was up have I been cursing the daylight, cursing myself, and them that brought me into the world. Did I curse mother, and the hour I was born into this miserable life?Why should I curse the day? Why do I lie here, groaning; yes, crying like a child, and beating my head against the stone floor? I am not mad, though I am shut up in a cell. No. Better for me if I was. But its all up now; theres no get away this time; and I, Dick Marston, as strong as a bullock, as active as a rock-wallaby, chock-full of life and spirits and health, have been tried for bush-ranging -- robbery under arms they call it -- and though the blood runs through my veins like the water in the mountain creeks, and every bit of bone and sinew is as sound as the day I was born, I must die on the gallows this day month.Die -- die -- yes, die; be strung up like a dog, as they say. Im blessed if ever I did know of a dog being hanged, though, if it comes to that, a shot or a bait generally makes an end of em in this country. Ha, ha! Did I laugh? What a rum thing it is that a man should have a laugh in him when hes only got twenty-nine days more to live -- a day for every year of my life. Well, laughing or crying, this is what it has come to at last....1230000141978_WDS Publishinglibro_electonico_a7894201-29bf-3f8f-9feb-8e3b32fdd87e_1230000141978;1230000141978_1230000141978Rolf BoldrewoodInglésMéxicohttps://getbook.kobo.com/koboid-prod-public/5da545ee-3339-47e6-97c4-a4393d41376e-epub-4cfa9dfe-fdbe-433b-8244-ca896cfcd8db.epub2013-06-15T00:00:00+00:00WDS Publishing