"Never mind--can't help it now--we shall get through the winter by and by."
"Can't you get uncle Rolf to help you a little?" whispered Fleda;--"It would do him good." But Hugh only shook his head.
"What are we going to do for dinner, Barby?" said Fleda, still holding Hugh there before the fire.
"Ain't much choice," said Barby. "It would puzzle anybody to spell much more out of it than pork and ham. There's plenty o' them. I shan't starve this some time."
"But we had ham yesterday and pork the day before yesterday and ham Monday," said Fleda. "There is plenty of vegetables, thanks to you and me, Hugh," she said with a little reminding squeeze of his arm. "I could make soups nicely, if I had anything to make them of!"
"There's enough to be had for the catching," said Barby. "If I hadn't a man-mountain of work upon me, I'd start out and shoot or steal something."
"You shoot, Barby!" said Fleda laughing.
"I guess I can do most anything I set my hand to. If I couldn't I'd shoot myself. It won't do to kill no more o' them chickens."
"O no,--now they are laying so finely. Well, I am going up the hill, and when I come home I'll try and make up something, Barby."
"Earl Douglass'll go out in the woods now and then, of a day when he ha'n't no work particular to do, and fetch hum as many pigeons and woodchucks as you could shake a stick at."