"No man can drive dogs else.

I can swear from hell to breakfast, by damn, and back again, if you will permit me, to the last link of perdition.

By the bones of Pharaoh and the blood of Judas, for instance, are fairly efficacious with a string of huskies; but the best of my dog-driving nomenclature, more's the pity, women cannot stand.

I promise you, however, in spite of hell and high water--" "Oh! Oh!" Mrs.Schoville screamed, thrusting her fingers into her ears.
"Madame," Baron Courbertin spoke up gravely, "it is a fact, a lamentable fact, that the dogs of the north are responsible for more men's souls than all other causes put together.

Is it not so?
I leave it to the gentlemen." Both Corliss and St.Vincent solemnly agreed, and proceeded to detonate the lady by swapping heart-rending and apposite dog tales.
St.Vincent and the baron remained behind to take lunch with the Gold Commissioner's wife, leaving Frona and Corliss to go down the hill together.