"He'd increase your stock in no time." "You don't say so." "Yes, but I do." "Ah! Your idioms.

I shall never learn." And he shook his head despairingly with both his hands.
They came out in a clearing, where a cabin stood close to the river.
On its flat earth-roof two sick men, swathed in blankets, were lying, while Bishop, Corliss, and Jacob Welse were splashing about inside the cabin after the clothes-bags and general outfit.

The mean depth of the flood was a couple of feet, but the floor of the cabin had been dug out for purposes of warmth, and there the water was to the waist.
"Keep the tobacco dry," one of the sick men said feebly from the roof.
"Tobacco, hell!" his companion advised.

"Look out for the flour.

And the sugar," he added, as an afterthought.
"That's 'cause Bill he don't smoke, miss," the first man explained.
"But keep an eye on it, won't you ?" he pleaded.
"Here.