“Are they warm?”
“Warmest things that ever you saw. The boards on a house are only an inch thick, but you can have the logs three feet thick, if you like.”
“Are they tight?”
“They can be made as tight as a cup.”
“I don’t think, then, a Newfoundland dog would be likely to suffer much in your shanty.”
“I was telling how a log house could be made. I don’t expect to take much pains with mine.”
“Would not all this timber that you are going to make frame, boards, and shingles of, fetch a good price in the market?”
“Why, yes, it would nearly all make spars.”
“Then you should build, instead of a half-faced cabin, a real log house, ‘three feet thick,’ if you like, and ‘as tight as a cup.’ I’ll go on with you; it’ll be a great deal better than to take turns in cooking, and live like pigs, as men always do when they live together. I’ve heard you say you had rather eat off a chip, and then throw it away, than eat off a china plate, and have to wash it when you were done; then there would be no time lost. When you came in from your work you would have your meals warm, and we would have a real sociable time in the evening.”
“O, that will never do.”