“Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent. She had first picked up the fiddle back when it was still called a viol, that was how long she had been at it. Whenever McClintock had guests, he loafed with them on the west veranda in the morning. I couldn’t rest or eat or sleep.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 27-06-2024 07:58:25
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