(no subject)
Edgar recently had a day of truly poor luck in hunting, and as a consequence, he has run out of ammunition for his fusil. The loss has made him recognize the prudence of conserving the firearms; therefore, he may be found outside, throwing his tomahawk at a block of heavy wood to retrain his aim. He has stripped down to his shirtsleeves and rolled his sleeves up, and he has clipped his hair and trimmed his beard to lessen the oppressive heat of mid-June.
He is not expecting company, but he would acknowledge politely anyone who came upon him.
He is not expecting company, but he would acknowledge politely anyone who came upon him.