Saturday, moreover, was the coldest, windiest day of the whole week; the temperature was down to fourteen degrees below.
Halse and Thomas said no; but he hung round, and teased us, while his half-starved old horse shivered in the wind; and we finally decided to oblige him, if he would take the tongs and haul out the cakes himself, as we sawed them.

It would not do to stop the saws that day, even for a moment.
Rufus had on an old blue army overcoat, the cape of which was turned up over his head and ears, and a red woolen "comforter" round his neck.

He wore long-legged, stiff cowhide boots, with his trousers tucked into the tops.
Addison, Thomas and I were sawing, with our backs turned to Rufus and to the wind, and Rufus was trying to haul out a cake of ice, when we heard a clatter and a muffled shout.

Rufus had slipped in! We looked round just in time to see him go down into that black, icy water.
Addison let go the saw and sprang for one of the ice-hooks.

I did the same.