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I'm going to learn that reel from you some day," and then, turning about, he straight-way forgot all about her and her reel, for Billy Jack's horses were pawing to be off, and rolling their solemn bells, while their breath rose in white clouds above their heads, wreathing their manes in hoary rime. "Git-ep, lads," said Billy Jack, hauling his lines taut and flourishing his whip.
Shouldn't wonder if they've got 'em already, making out their mothers like an old white pine. Git-ep, I say!" "Oh, pshaw!" said Hughie, "you know what I mean." "Not much I don't. But it don't matter so long as you're feelin' all right. This swamp's rather bad for the groojums." "What?" Hughie's eyes began to open wide as he glanced into the forest. "The groojums. Never heard of them things?
"Them leaders is turrible good snow-horses; they sabe snow-shoes like a man." Lannigan stretched his neck to catch a glimpse of them through the pines before they made the turn into the Main street. There was a slightly acid edge to Uncle Bill's tone as he observed: "I ought to git my Try-bune to-night if the postmistress at Beaver Crick is done with it." "Git-ep! Eagle! Git-ep, Nig!"
"Yes, you know, quiet and and kind, and nice." "Yes," said Thomas, breaking in for the first time, "that's just it. They do look, sure enough, like my mother and yours. They have both got that look." "Git-ep!" said Billy Jack to his team. "These fellows'll be ketchin' something bad if we don't get into the open soon.
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