Explore "Panama Gold" by Eric Walrond on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The sun was slowly dying. Ella, a switch in her hand, rounded up her chicks. Cocks came proudly in, puffed by poise and conquest; hens, agitated, jealous of their young, clucked in -- furious at the disappearance of a one-eyed one caught by the leg and dragged down the hole of a mongoose.
"Yo' go up dere, an' behave yo'self."