Summary
HE HAD broad shoulders of the sort that could swell any jacket of Donegal tweed and his hands, which stretched from sleeves padded in leather at the elbows, were big and veined and very strong and they could lift a hod of bricks and rest it on some place so surely that the dust would barely move.
But these same hands could rub the back of a cantankerous old dog's ears until the growls became sighs of pleasure and then he would gaze up with faith and affection, through the soft brown of his eyes.See the full content of this document
Extract
David Harters: This Is the Song to Draw Tears From Granite
And when the man looked at a house he could tell you in a few moments whether the beams were strong enough for a new generation or whether those creaking boards had been wormed by too many years. Now he was encased in ...
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