"Bleak Hill in December!" Angy cried, aghast. "Naow, see here, Father," resolutely, "medicine er no medicine—"
"He's got ter git hardened up," firmly interposed Dr. Darby; "it'll be the makin' o' him."
Angy turned on Samuel with ruffled feathers.
"He'll freeze ter death. Yew shan't—"
Here Abe's stubborn will, so rarely set against Angy's gentle persistence, rose up in defiance:
"We're a-gwine on a reg'lar A No. 1 spree with the boys, an' no women-folks is a-goin' ter stop us neither."
"When?" asked Angy faintly, feeling Abe's brow, but to her surprise finding it cool and healthy.
"Ter-morrer!" proclaimed Samuel; whereupon Abe looked a little dubious and lifted up his two feet, wrapped as they were in the blanket, to determine the present strength of his legs.
"Don't yer think yer'd better make it day after ter-morrer?" he ventured.
"Or 'long erbout May er June?" Angy hastily amended.