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Updated: June 18, 2025
Got a job aboard that dock going with her to Buenos Aires Say, slow-boy, is that dory of yours anchored, or is it really coming this way?" "Coomin' that way, sor!" wheezed the waterman from below. "That's a coincidence," observed the stranger, twirling his pale mustache. "I had a berth on her, too." He indicated a huge English kit bag at his feet.
"Susan Wakefield; a brother John in Buenos Aires, Argentine; the letter!" It was all so familiar that the allusion was startling in its force. But that ominous cloud, that sense of some great trouble near that filled him with such unaccountable dread what could it mean? An exclamation from Auntie Sue drew his attention.
But we looked in vain for the man who once sold whisky and coffins in Buenos Aires; the march of civilization had crushed him memory only clung to his name. Enterprising man that he was, I fain would have looked him up.
On the threshold of the drawing-room he recalled with an effort that the steps he contemplated concerned Winifred at the moment, not himself. Winifred was still sitting at her Buhl bureau. "It's quite true," he said; "he's gone to Buenos Aires, started this morning we'd better have him shadowed when he lands. I'll cable at once. Otherwise we may have a lot of expense.
Out in the Camp he had been too desolate to feel that, but here in Buenos Aires, at the very moment when the great city was waking to the knowledge of her queenship in the southern world when the commercial hordes of the north were sweeping down in thousands of ships across the equator to outdo each other in her markets, it was an inspiring thing merely to be alive and busy.
It was, however, not until thirty years later that the final differences between Buenos Aires and the other provinces were completely adjusted.
To Ceylon for orders, and from Ceylon to Rangoon to load rice for Rio Janeiro. Thence to Buenos Aires and loading maize for the United Kingdom or the Continent, stopping at St. Vincent, to receive orders to proceed to Dublin. Two years and four months, eight hundred and fifty days by the log, steaming up and down the thousand-league-long sea-lanes and back again to Dublin town.
And the third year two of those crabs were found by a Buenos Aires fisherman, who reported that they evidently were going south, bound around the Cape, returning to California.
It was a classified-secret matter long after its obsolescence, because it hadn't been rendered any the less deadly by being superseded there was that A-bomb that the Christian Anarchist Party put together at Buenos Aires in 378 A.E., for instance.
At a later period this arrangement was modified to some extent, and Buenos Aires was made a port of entry. The reason for not permitting trade with Buenos Aires during the earlier period was the fear that the British and Dutch would smuggle through that port.
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