She came in a moment and helped at the stripping of our feet and legs.

I remember that she slit my trousers with the shears as I lay on the floor, while the others rubbed my feet with the snow.

Our hands and ears were badly frosted, but in an hour the whiteness had gone out of them and the returning blood burnt like a fire.
'How queer he stares!' I heard them say when Uncle Eb first came to, and in a moment a roar of laughter broke from him.
'I'll never fergit,' said he presently, 'if I live a thousan' years, the lickin' I gin thet boy; but it hurt me worse'n it hurt him.' Then he told the story of the blue beech.
The next day was that 'cold Friday' long remembered by those who felt its deadly chill--a day when water thrown in the magic air came down in clinking crystals, and sheaths of frost lay thick upon the windows.

But that and the one before it were among the few days in that early period that lie, like a rock, under my character..