They rested in the shade while the goat herd foraged for tasty titbits.
Suddenly the goats scattered.
Eamonn swore, and Eula-Mae reached into the pocket of her pinafore.
Two men came out of a stand of stunted trees. One held a rifle at waist height, the other stared at them through little red eyes.
“Oho,” he chortled, “if it ain’t a girlie.”
He grabbed his crotch suggestively.
Eula-Mae tossed up a handful of powder, which the breeze carried into the faces of the oncoming marauders.
Honestly, the change wasn’t dramatic, but pig stew fed the family for weeks…
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