I got ready, with a heavy heart,
to take it out. I had forgotten all about their dinner, for one thing,
and I had to carry bad news.
But Mr. Pierce had been there before me. I saw tracks in the fresh snow,
for, praise heaven! it had snowed all that week and our prints
were filled up almost as fast as we made them. When I got to the
shelter-house it was in a wild state of excitement. Mrs. Dick, with her
cheeks flushed, had gathered all her things on the cot and was rolling
them up in sheets and newspapers. But Mr. Dick was sitting on the box
in front of the fire with his curly hair standing every way. He had been
roasting potatoes, and as I opened the door, he picked one up and poked
at it to see if it was done.
"Damn!" he said, and dropped it.
Mrs. Dick sat on the cot rolling up a pink ribbon and looked at him.
"If you want to know exactly my reason for insisting on moving to-night,
I'll tell you," she said, paying no attention to me. "It is your
disposition."
He didn't say anything, but he put his foot on the potato and smashed
it.
"If I had to be shut in here with you one more day," she went on, "I'd
hate you."
"Why the one more day?" he asked, without looking up.
But she didn't answer him. She was in the worst kind of a temper; she
threw the ribbon down, and coming over, lifted the lid of my basket and
looked in.
"Ham again!" she exclaimed ungratefully. "Thanks so much for remembering
us, Minnie. I dare say our dinner to-day slipped your mind!"
"I wonder if it strikes you, Minnie," Mr.
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