"Say, Jerome," he shouted--"say, Jerome, got any room to spare in that coat?
'cause Abigail Mack is freezin'." "Go 'long, 'Lisha," cried Abigail, sputtering with giggles, and giving the young man a caressing push with her elbow.
'Lisha, thus encouraged, essayed further wit.

"Say, Jerome, s'pose you can fill out that coat of yours any quicker if I give ye half my dinner?
Here's a half a pie I can spare.

Reckon you don't have much to eat down to your house, 'cept chicken-fodder, and that ain't very fat'nin'." Jerome came up.

All at once through the glow of his black eyes flashed that spiritual lightning, evident when purpose is changed to action.

The girls screamed and fled.