Showing posts with label mules. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mules. Show all posts

Thursday, 26 August 2010

Daren't drink anything else



      Fifteen dollars a bottle they were charging for claret at the Planters’ Hotel in St Louis that year, and it was like drinking swamp-water when the mules have been by; I’ve tasted better in a London ladies’ club. But you daren’t drink anything else because of the cholera…


Flashman and the Redskins, p.54, Pan Books edition, 1983.




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Monday, 18 May 2009

Blood-stained snow and dead mules




Last of all I insisted on a lead box of biscuits – and Willie cried out with laughter.
   ‘They are ship’s biscuits – what should we need those for?’
   ‘Insurance, my lad.’ says I. ‘Take ’em along, and it’s odds you’ll never need them. Leave ’em behind, and as sure as shooting you’ll finish up living off blood-stained snow and dead mules.’ It’s God’s truth, too.



Flashman at the Charge, p.37, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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