Explore "Robbery under Arms" by Rolf Boldrewood on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Now we had something to think about the time didn't pass so slow. No end of things had to be looked after, you bet. What we were going to tackle was no foolish boy's play; there was no use going at it bullheaded, and not having everything all square and regular beforehand. So we tackled the work in real earnest -- much like as if we were going a long overlanding journey, and it was no use looking for things to be got on the road. A long journey it might be for some of us, but we didn't bother our heads about that. It was all in the day's work.
Father was in great buckle, and as busy as a knockabout man when the super's looking at him. There was all the saddles and bridles to see to, some of 'em wanted stuffing and mending up. He was as good as a regular saddler, was father at that game, and had tools and needles, cobbler's wax, and all the rest of it, handy in a box he kept in the cave.