"The bridge ar carried away, and ye'll hev to swim shore," said the woman. "Ye'd better stay."
"Thank you, madam, I think we will," I replied, after a moment's thought; "our horse has swum one of your creeks to-night, and I dare not try another."
Having taken off my coat, I had been standing, during the greater part of this conversation, in my shirt-sleeves before the fire, turning round occasionally to facilitate the drying process, and taking every now and then a sip from the gourd containing our brandy and water; aided in the latter exercise by the old woman and the eldest girl, who indulged quite as freely as I did.
"Mighty good brandy that," at last said the woman. "Ye like brandy, don't ye?"
"Not very much, madam. I take it to-night because I've been exposed to the storm, and it stimulates the circulation. But Scip, here, don't like spirits. He'll get the rheumatism because he don't."
"Don't like dem sort of sperits, massa; but rumatics neber trubble me."
"But I've got it mighty bad," said the woman, "and I take 'em whenever I kin get 'em."
I rather thought she did, but I "reckoned" her principal beverage was whiskey.
"You have the rheumatism, madam, because your house is so open; a draught of air is always unhealthy."
"I allers reckoned 'twar healthy," she replied. "Ye Yankee folks have quar notions."