Explore "Auntie Robbo" by Ann Scott-Moncrieff on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
There was a deal of trouble in getting the pony and cart turned in the narrow lane. One wheel went into the ditch. A bunch of pails, slipping their moorings, fell clattering in all directions. The pony bucked and stamped, showing there was life in his old bones yet. And the tinker swore bitterly. Hector shut his ears against the swearing; Auntie Robbo listened politely, trying to make out what it meant; nobody else seemed to notice.
At last they were set four-square on the road with the horse's nose pointing in the right direction. Auntie Robbo led the way, with the tinker striding along so that he breathed hard to keep up with her. She discovered that he had been in New Zealand in his youth, and this provided her with one of her favourite topics of conversation. The tinker hardly got a word in edgeways.