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Pardners
Contributor(s): Beach, Rex (Author)
ISBN: 0548459517     ISBN-13: 9780548459515
Publisher: Kessinger Publishing
OUR PRICE:   $27.50  
Product Type: Paperback - Other Formats
Published: September 2007
Qty:
Annotation: "Most all the old quotations need fixing," said Joyce in tones forbidding dispute. "For instance, the guy that alluded to marriages germinating in heaven certainly got off on the wrong foot. He meant pardnerships. The same works ain't got capacity for both, no more'n you can build a split-second stop-watch in a stone quarry. No, sir! A true pardnership is the sanctifiedest relation that grows, is, and has its beans, while any two folks of opposite sect can marry and peg the game out some way. Of course, all pardnerships ain't divine. To every one that's heaven borned there's a thousand made in -. There goes them cussed dogs again!" He dove abruptly at the tent flap, disappearing like a palmed coin, while our canvas structure reeled drun-kenly at his impact. The sounds of strife without rose shrilly into blended agony, and the yelps of Keno melted away down the gulch in a rapid and rabid diminuendo.
Additional Information
BISAC Categories:
- Fiction
Dewey: 813.52
Physical Information: 0.64" H x 6" W x 9" (0.92 lbs) 284 pages
 
Descriptions, Reviews, Etc.
Publisher Description:
"Most all the old quotations need fixing," said Joyce in tones forbidding dispute. "For instance, the guy that alluded to marriages germinating in heaven certainly got off on the wrong foot. He meant pardnerships. The same works ain't got capacity for both, no more'n you can build a split-second stop-watch in a stone quarry. No, sir A true pardnership is the sanctifiedest relation that grows, is, and has its beans, while any two folks of opposite sect can marry and peg the game out some way. Of course, all pardnerships ain't divine. To every one that's heaven borned there's a thousand made in -. There goes them cussed dogs again " He dove abruptly at the tent flap, disappearing like a palmed coin, while our canvas structure reeled drun-kenly at his impact. The sounds of strife without rose shrilly into blended agony, and the yelps of Keno melted away down the gulch in a rapid and rabid diminuendo.