But wouldn't it be better for you to go in here until the shower is over?
Holy Florian! "Just see that piece of ice in your horse's mane! It's as large as a pigeon's egg.

Two horses are already standing under the shed, and Quatgelat's beer isn't bad." The baron glanced inquiringly at his son.
"Let us go in," replied Nicolas; "we shall get to the Hague early enough.

See how poor Balthasar is shivering! Henrica says he's a white boy painted; but if she could see how well he keeps his color in this weather, she would take it back." Herr Van Wibisma turned his dripping, smoking steed, frightened by the hail-stones, towards the house, and in a few minutes crossed the threshold of the inn with his son..