The saloon-post office was a bare room with a short bar and four or five bottles on the back bar. Smith was a fat, unshaven man in his undershirt, who leaned massive forearms on the bar. A cowhand lounged at the end of the bar, nursing a beer. At a table in the corner two men sat drinking beer.
"Quite a town you've got here," Val said.
"Yep! She's a lollapalooza! Biggest town between here and the next place."
(from Reilly's Luck, by Louis L'Amour)
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