The weend, she--" "Aw, what yuh running a ferry for ?" Frosty cut in impatiently.

"There's a good, strong current on, to-day; she'll go across on a high run." Pochette shook his head still more dubiously, till I got down and bolstered up his courage with a small piece of gold.

They're all alike; their courage ebbs and flows on a golden tide, if you'll let me indulge in a bit of unnecessary hyperbole.

He worked the scow around end on to the bank, so that we could drive on.

The team wasn't a bit stuck on going, but Frosty knows how to handle horses, and they steadied when he went to their heads and talked to them.
We were so busy with our own affairs that we didn't notice what was going on behind us till we heard Pochette declaiming bad profanity in a high soprano.