She hid his cap and great-coat; and what with crying, and scolding, and coaxing, she fairly carried her point.
"'You see I 'm a prisoner,' says he; 'they won't let me go.' "'Well,' says I, 'you don't seem to be troubled about it.

I tell you what, young man,' says I, 'it's mighty pretty now to stroll round here, and pick mosses, and hunt birds' eggs with that gal; but wait till November comes, and everything freezes up stiff and dead except white bears And Ingens, and there's no daylight left to speak of, and you 'll be sick enough of your choice.

You won't live the winter out; and it 's an awful place to die in, where the ground freezes so hard that they can't bury you.' "'Lucille says,' says he, 'that God is as near us in the winter as in the summer.

The fact is, Skipper, I've no nearer relative left in the States than a married brother, who thinks more of his family and business than of me; and if it is God's will that I shall die, I may as well wait His call here as anywhere.

I have found kind friends here; they will do all they can for me; and for the rest I trust Providence.' "Lucille begged that I would let him stay; for she said God would hear her prayers, and he would get well.