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Excerpt: I say, did you hear old pensioner Jones, jawing away to Haji Aboo about the gold reefs, that lie round Tappah? An eager young planter put this question to his companion, as together they?or rather their horses?toiled up a sharp ascent. Oh yes, I heard him, grunted the other with a shrug. And what did you think, Ted? That the old boy was drunk as usual, was the uncompromising rejoinder. Filthy Bazaar liquor; some of these days he'll snuff-out! Well, of course it's Shandy, but I've a notion, there is something in his story. No smoke without fire! Eh? He swore that one or two of the…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
Excerpt: I say, did you hear old pensioner Jones, jawing away to Haji Aboo about the gold reefs, that lie round Tappah? An eager young planter put this question to his companion, as together they?or rather their horses?toiled up a sharp ascent. Oh yes, I heard him, grunted the other with a shrug. And what did you think, Ted? That the old boy was drunk as usual, was the uncompromising rejoinder. Filthy Bazaar liquor; some of these days he'll snuff-out! Well, of course it's Shandy, but I've a notion, there is something in his story. No smoke without fire! Eh? He swore that one or two of the estates were chock full of gold. Oh, there's gold enough in coffee, if you know how to work it, declared Ted Dawson, an enthusiast at his trade. Yes, but why not the other sort as well? Imagine two heavy crops?the berry, and the nugget! urged his partner. I've heard that lame Maistrey?whose ancestors lived here when these hills were opened up?say, that the first planters were granted immense tracts for a mere song, and that one or two of them like Pattador and Fairplains?run right down to the low country, where there are old workings, smothered in jungle. Bosh! ejaculated Ted, I've heard these fool stories, but there's nothing in them; and he ruthlessly turned from this ever-dazzling subject, to an unromantic discussion on bone manure and sulphate of ammonia.

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Autorenporträt
Bithia Born on November 6, 1849, Mary Croker, sometimes known as B. M. Croker, was a British author who died on October 20, 1920. During the late 19th and early 20th centuries, she was a well-known and prolific writer who was well-known for her captivating novels and short stories. Croker lived a significant portion of her life in India, where her husband was a British Army soldier. Her experiences there had a profound effect on her work. Her paintings frequently portrayed the life of British expatriates in India, providing realistic depictions of the people, customs, and natural surroundings of the area. Croker's writing was distinguished by its intricate character development, captivating narratives, and vivid descriptions.