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He turned weakly, to behold Pierre propped in a chair by the stove, frost-scarred and pale, but aggressive even in recuperation. He gesticulated fiercely with a bandaged hand, hot in controversy with some big-limbed, bearded strangers. "Bah! You fellers no good too beeg in the ches', too leetle in the forehead. She'll tak' the heducate mans for stan' the 'ardsheep lak' me an' Meestaire Weelard."
"That's all right," grinned Pierre. "You got the beeg will lef' yet. It take the heducate man for stan' the col', you know." Willard gritted his teeth. They awoke to the whine of a grey windstorm that swept the cutting snow in swirling clouds and made travel a madness. The next day was worse.
Well, you let that foundation tumble hin, and then where you got you' soul, heigh? But Father Étienne speaks very good English. Heducate at Rome. I am the only other educated man at Haha Bay. You don't 'appen to have some papers in you' bag? French? English? It is the same!" "Papers? No!" said Northwick, with horror and suspicion. "What is in the papers?"
I've seen you drink a quart of this wood alcohol they call whisky up here, and then jump the bar from a stand, but you're all animal you haven't the refinement and the culture that makes real strength. It's the mind that makes us stand punishment." "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the Canadian. "Wat a fonny talk. She'll take the heducate man for stan' the col', eh? Mon Dieu!"
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