"Oh, of course, I did not expect to go on the boat; I was thinking of
crossing on the ice."
"I think that would scarcely be safe, Mr. William; the weather has
moderated a great deal since nightfall, and I rather think the ice may
be weak."
"Pooh! nonsense! fiddle-de-dee!" exclaimed the other traveler,
testily; "do you think, old driveler, that a few hours of moderate
weather could weaken, effectually, the ice of a river that has been
hard frozen for a week? Why, at this moment a coach might be driven
across with perfect safety!"
"I shouldn't like to try it, though, sir," said the driver, who
entered at this moment.
"The gentleman can try it, if he likes," continued the old man, with a
grin, "but I do hopes Mr. Dulan won't."
"Why, the ice will certainly bear a foot-passenger safely across,"
smiled William Dulan.
"I dare say it may; but, at any rate, I wouldn't try it, Master
William--'specially as it's a long, dark, slushy road between here and
the widow's."
"Why, Uncle Ben, do you think I am a young chicken, to be killed by
wetting my feet?" asked William, laughing. "Besides, at this very
moment, my good mother is waiting for me, and has a blazing fire, a
pot of strong coffee, and a bowl of oysters, in readiness.
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