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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"A Poor Wise Man"

" What he meant was,
"If there isn't love."
"You are perfectly satisfied with things just as they are, aren't
you?" Lily asked, half enviously.
"Well, I'd change some things." He stopped. He wasn't going to
go round sighing like a furnace. "But it's a pretty good sort of
place. I'm for it."
"Have you sent your ponies out?"
"Only two. I want to show you one I bought from the Government
almost for nothing. Remount man piped me off. Light in flesh,
rather, but fast. Handy, light mouth--all he needs is a bit of
training."
They had been in the open country for some time, but now they were
approaching the Cardew's Friendship plant. The furnaces had covered
the fields with a thin deposit of reddish ore dust. Such blighted
grass as grew had already lost its fresh green, and the trees showed
stunted blossoms. The one oasis of freshness was the polo field
itself, carefully irrigated by underground pipes. The field, with
its stables and grandstand, had been the gift of Anthony Cardew,
thereby promoting much discussion with his son. For Howard had
wanted the land for certain purposes of his own, to build a clubhouse
for the men at the plant, with a baseball field.


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