“Zacheus Bloomer, do you mean to say—”
“Um-hm. Twenty foot in the air we was all that night and part of next day. When it slacked off and we settled down again we was leakin' like a sieve; you see, while we was up there that no'thwester had blowed 'most all the copper off the vessel's bottom. Some storm that was, Posy, some storm.... Well, so long, all hands. Much obliged for the coffee, Martha.”
He tugged his sou'wester tighter on his head, glanced at Miss Cash's face, where incredulity and indignation were written large and struggling for expression, turned his head in Mr. Bangs' direction, winked solemnly, and departed. The wind obligingly and enthusiastically saved him the trouble of closing the door.
Galusha was not called upon to endure any such experiences as those described by the veracious Mr. Bloomer in his record-breaking gale, but during that winter he learned a little of what New England coast weather could be and often was. And he learned, also, that that weather was, like most blusterers, not nearly as savage when met squarely face to face. He learned to put on layer after layer of garments, topping off with oilskins, sou'wester and mittens, and tramp down to the village for the mail or to do the household errands. He was growing stronger all the time and if the doctor could have seen him plowing through drifts or shouldering his way through a driving rain he would have realized that his patient was certainly obeying the order to “keep out of doors.” Martha Phipps was perfectly certain that her lodger was keeping out of doors altogether too much.
“You aren't goin' out to-day, Mr. Bangs, are you?” she exclaimed. “It's as cold as the North Pole. You'll freeze.”
Galusha smiled beneath his cap visor and between the ear-laps.
“Oh, no, indeed,” he declared. “It's brisk and—ah—snappy, that's all. A smart walk will do me good. I am accustomed to walking. In Egypt I walk a GREAT deal.”
“I don't doubt it; but you don't have much of this sort of weather in Egypt, if what I've heard is true.”
Mr. Bangs' smile broadened. “I fear I shall have to admit that,” he said; “but my—ah—physician told me that a change would be good for me. And this IS a change, now isn't it?”
“I should say it was. About as much change as a plate of ice cream after a cup of hot coffee. Well, if you're bound to go, do keep walkin' fast. Don't forget that it's down to zero or thereabouts; don't forget that and wander over to the old cemetery and kneel down in front of a slate tombstone and freeze to death.”