David Rasmunsen was a hustler, and, like
many a greater man, a man of the one idea. Wherefore, when the clarion call of
the North rang on his ear, he conceived an adventure in eggs and bent all his
energy to its achievement. He figured briefly and to the point, and the
adventure became iridescent-hued, splendid. That eggs would sell at Dawson for
five dollars a dozen was a safe working premise. Whence it was incontrovertible
that one thousand dozen would bring, in the Golden Metropolis, five thousand
dollars.
This story, by London, one of the 100 Best according
to Mr. Lewis, is a mini-marvel.
It is one of his tales of the North and it packs a lot
of territory in its brief 21-pages.
We have wide-eyed dreaming and those dreams making
contact with reality again and again.
We have endurance, harsh conditions, survival and
hardship as can only be described by a man who has lived it and seen it.
Is this an adventure story? Yes.
A cautionary tale? Yes.
A black comedy? That, too.
Easily one of the best I’ve read by London.
An impressive 21-pages indeed.
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