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"His fist is like a wood-sledge, m'sieu." "So it was years ago." "His forearm is as big as the calf of your leg." "Oui, friend Delesse, it is the forearm of a giant." "He is half again your weight." "Or more, friend Delesse." "He will kill you! As the great God lives, he will kill you!" "I shall die hard," repeated Reese Beaudin for the third time that day. Joe Delesse turned slowly, doggedly.
For the honour of Monadnock there was made that afternoon an image of snow of Gautama Buddha, something too squat and not altogether equal on both sides, but with an imperial and reposeful waist. He faced towards the mountain, and presently some men in a wood-sledge came up the road and faced him.
Through this magnificence, and thinking nothing of it, a wood-sledge drawn by two shaggy red steers, the unbarked logs diamond-dusted with snow, shouldered down the road in a cloud of frosty breath.
One party after another was flying past down the high-road on sledges, like shadows in the moonlight, with shouts and cries half-grown lads and lassies, and now and then a party of fine people from the town below. One tall lad, with the rope over his shoulder and his heels digging into the hillside, was dragging a wood-sledge up, with a heavy load of girls upon it.
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