He shook his fist angrily at the gleaming eyes, and began securely to prop his moccasins before the fire. 'An' I wisht this cold snap'd break,' he went on. 'It's been fifty below for two weeks now. An' I wisht I'd never started on this trip, Henry. I don't like the looks of it. I don't feel right, somehow. An' while I'm wishin', I wisht the trip was over an' done with, an' you an' me a-sittin' by the fire in Fort McGurry just about now an' playin' cribbage- that's what I wisht.'
Jack LondonAbout author
- Author's profession: Novelist, Writer
- Nationality: american
- Born: January 12, 1876
- Died: November 22, 1916