Some toppled over; some were caught by the legs; some by the horns.

They dragged the wire twenty and thirty yards away, twisted it round logs, and left a lot of the posts pointing to sunset.
Oh, Dad's language then! He swung his arms about and foamed at the mouth.

Dave edged away from him.
Joe came up waving triumphantly a chewed piece of the waistcoat.
"D-d-did it g-give them a buster, Dad ?" he said, the sweat running over his face as though a spring had broken out on top of his head.

Dad jumped a log and tried to unbuckle his strap and reach for Joe at the same time, but Joe fled.
That threw a painful pall over everything.

Dad declared he was sick and tired of the whole thing, and would n't do another hand's-turn.
Dave meditated and walked along the fence, plucking off scraps of skin and hair that here and there clung to the bent and battered wire.
We had just finished supper when old Bob Wren, a bachelor who farmed about two miles from us, arrived.