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Dancing at the Rascal Fair [Paperback]

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  • Category: Books (Fiction)
  • Author:  Doig, Ivan
  • Author:  Doig, Ivan
  • ISBN-10:  0684831058
  • ISBN-10:  0684831058
  • ISBN-13:  9780684831053
  • ISBN-13:  9780684831053
  • Publisher:  Scribner
  • Publisher:  Scribner
  • Pages:  416
  • Pages:  416
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Pub Date:  01-Jan-1996
  • Pub Date:  01-Jan-1996
  • SKU:  0684831058-11-MING
  • SKU:  0684831058-11-MING
  • Item ID: 100060966
  • List Price: $19.00
  • Seller: ShopSpell
  • Ships in: 2 business days
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  • Delivery by: Nov 28 to Nov 30
  • Notes: Brand New Book. Order Now.

The central volume in Ivan Doig's acclaimed Montana trilogy,Dancing at the Rascal Fairis an authentic saga of the American experience at the turn of this century and a passionate, portrayal of the immigrants who dared to try new lives in the imposing Rocky Mountains.
Ivan Doig's supple tale of landseekers unfolds into a fateful contest of the heart between Anna Ramsay and Angus McCaskill, walled apart by their obligations as they and their stormy kith and kin vie to tame the brutal, beautiful Two Medicine country.Chapter 1

SCOTLAND AND HELENA

Harbour Mishap at Greenock. Yesterday morning, while a horse and cart were conveying a thousand-weight of sugar on the quay at Albert Harbour, one of the cartwheels caught a mooring stanchion, which caused the laden conveyance and its draft animal to fall over into the water. The poor creature made desperate efforts to free itself and was successful in casting off all the harness except the collar, which, being attached to the shafts of the sunken cart, held its head under water until it was drowned. The dead animal and the cart were raised during the forenoon by the Greenock harbour diver.

Glasgow Caledonian, Octobert 23, 1889

To say the truth, it was not how I expected -- stepping off toward America past a drowned horse.

You would remember too well, Rob, that I already was of more than one mind about the Atlantic Ocean. And here we were, not even within eyeshot of the big water, not even out onto the slow-flowing River Clyde yet, and here this heap of creature that would make, what, four times the sum total of Rob Barclay and Angus McCaskill, here on the Greenock dock it lay gawping up at us with a wild dead eye. Strider of the earth not an hour ago, wet rack of carcass now. An affidavit such as that says a lot to a man who cannot swim. Or at least who never has.

But depend on you, Rob. In those times you could make light of whatever. There was that red shine olĂ*

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