Buenos Aires in body, the beautiful and green Sharon in my heart
Originally Posted by JGXL836
All through the evening they kept thundering away. Ball after ball flew over or fell short or kicked up the sand in the inclosure; but they had to fire so high that the shot fell dead and buried itself in the soft sand. We had no ricochet to fear, and though one popped in through the roof of the log house and out again through the door, we soon got used to that sort of horse-play and minded it no more than cricket.