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The Bushman — Life in a New Country by Edward Wilson Landor
page 42 of 335 (12%)
pannikins.

The kettle fizzed upon the fire, impatient to be poured out; the
company began to draw round the hospitable board, seating themselves
upon their bedding, or upon empty packing-cases; and, in a word, tea
time had arrived. Hannibal, as we called the younger of our
attendants, from his valiant disposition, had filled one of the
pewter plates with brown sugar from the bag; the doctor made the tea,
and we wanted nothing but spoons to make our equipage complete.
However, every man had his pocket-knife, and so we fell to work.

Butter being at that time half-a-crown a pound, Simon (our head man)
had prudently refrained from buying any; and as he had forgotten to
boil a piece of the salt pork, we had to sup upon dry bread, which we
did without repining, determined, however, to manage better on the
morrow.

In the meantime we were nearly driven desperate by most violent
attacks upon our legs, committed by myriads of fleas. They were so
plentiful that we could see them crawling upon the floor; the dogs
almost howled with anguish, and the most sedate among us could not
refrain from bitter and deep execrations. We had none of us ever
before experienced such torment; and really feared that in the course
of the night we should be eaten up entirely. These creatures are
hatched in the sand, and during the rains of winter they take refuge
in empty houses; but they infest every place throughout the country,
during all seasons, more or less, and are only kept down by constant
sweeping from becoming a most tremendous and overwhelming plague,
before which every created being, not indigenous to the soil, would
soon disappear, or be reduced to a bundle of polished bones. The
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