The poor folks that it's life and death to have to go out whether or no, no matter if they've got an extra suit of clothes or not.

They've got to go out through the drenchin' rain and the snow-drifts, to earn money so that the rich folks can have them gold-plated harnesses and them silks and velvets.

Joe's been out all winter in weather as bad as this, after he's been standin' all day in a shop as hot as hell, drenched with sweat.

One more time won't make much difference." "It would be 'nough sight better for me if it did," said Joseph Atkins, chokingly, and still with that same seeming of hurry.
Fanny had gone out to the dining-room, and now she returned stirring some whiskey and molasses in a cup.
"Here," said she, "you take this, Mr.Atkins; it's real good for a cough.

Andrew cured a cold with it last month." "Mine ain't a cold, and it can't be cured in this world, but it's better for me, I guess," said Joe Atkins, chokingly, but he took the cup.
"Now, you hadn't ought to talk so," Fanny said.