"Well," said he, eying me with an air of ready interest, "it's a fine morning and it's not a fine morning. I don't think it's much of a morning." "Well, no it is not so very fine," said I. "It's just what I call fuggly weather," replied the doctor. "It was very cold last night, I thought," I remarked. "However, when I looked about, I found that the porthole was wide open.