In the first place Peg snored loudly; in the second place the fitful gleams of firelight kept flickering over the skull for half the night and making gruesome effects on it; in the third place Peg's pillows and bedclothes smelled rankly of tobacco smoke; and in the fourth place they were afraid the rat Peg had spoken of might come out to make their acquaintance.

Indeed, they were sure they heard him skirmishing about several times.
When we wakened in the morning the storm was over and a young morning was looking through rosy eyelids across a white world.

The little clearing around Peg's cabin was heaped with dazzling drifts, and we boys fell to and shovelled out a road to her well.

She gave us breakfast--stiff oatmeal porridge without milk, and a boiled egg apiece.
Cecily could NOT eat her porridge; she declared she had such a bad cold that she had no appetite; a cold she certainly had; the rest of us choked our messes down and after we had done so Peg asked us if we had noticed a soapy taste.
"The soap fell into the porridge while I was making it," she said.
"But,"-- smacking her lips,--"I'm going to make yez an Irish stew for dinner.

It'll be fine." An Irish stew concocted by Peg! No wonder Dan said hastily, "You are very kind but we'll have to go right home." "Yez can't walk," said Peg.
"Oh, yes, we can.