"Sure there's a baby, and the two women critters are perished with
cold," pleaded the good old man.
"What's that to me? They have no business in my kitchen."
"Now, Almira, do hold on. It's the coach has stopped to breakfast
with us; and you know we don't often get the chance."
All this time the fair Almira was dressing as fast as she could,
and eyeing her unwelcome female guests, as we stood shivering over
the fire.
"Breakfast!" she muttered, "what can we give them to eat? They pass
our door a thousand times without any one alighting; and now, when
we are out of everything, they must stop and order breakfast at
such an unreasonable hour. How many are there of you?" turning
fiercely to me.
"Nine," I answered, laconically, continuing to chafe the cold hands
and feet of the child.
"Nine! That bit of beef will be nothing, cut into steaks for nine.
What's to be done, Joe?" (to the old man.)
"Eggs and ham, summat of that dried venison, and pumpkin pie,"
responded the aide-de-camp, thoughtfully. "I don't know of any
other fixings."
"Bestir yourself, then, and lay out the table, for the coach can't
stay long," cried the virago, seizing a frying-pan from the wall,
and preparing it for the reception of eggs and ham.
