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Updated: May 7, 2025
"I thought of it before we started, and put in a kerosene-can and some newspapers. Hatchet, too." Just got out of the sleigh and waded away toward a thick growth of underbrush along the side of the road. In ten minutes a roaring fire was leaping into the descending snowfall.
I went down town with the kerosene-can jus' afore tea, 'n' I bought me a new false front, 'n' I met Mrs. Brown's son, 'n' I told him 't I wanted him to come up to-morrow 'n' take a look at father." "Was you thinkin' o' marryin' Mrs. Br " Mrs. Lathrop gasped, taking her clover from her lips. "Marryin' Mrs. Brown's son! Well, 'f your mind don't run queer ways!
It ain't you nor me that ought to grudge her fortune to her, nor wish her where she might have been otherwise." "That's so," said the young man. Abby's hand tightened over the one on the kerosene-can. "You are a good fellow, Granville Joy," she said again. Robert Lloyd was sitting on the veranda behind the green trail of vines when Ellen came up the walk.
"It would be a heap better for her," he said to himself, quite loud, and two men whom he was passing looked at him curiously. "Drunk," said one to the other. When he was on his homeward way he overtook a slender girl struggling along with a kerosene-can in one hand and a package of sugar in the other, and, seeing that it was Abby Atkins, he possessed himself of both.
"Well, I'm glad of it, aren't you?" Abby said, in a challenging tone. "Yes, I am," replied Granville, meeting her look firmly. Suddenly he felt Abby's little, meagre, bony hand close over the back of his, holding the kerosene-can. "You're a good fellow, Granville Joy," said she. Granville marched on and made no response. He felt his throat fill with sobs, and swallowed convulsively.
I'd set her afire, if it wa'n't for roastin' them spuds." "That's it!" Smoke exploded, as he sprang to his feet. "Just what I was trying to remember. Where's that kerosene-can? I'm with you, Shorty. The potatoes are ours." "What's the game?" "Watch me, that's all," Smoke baffled. "I always told you, Shorty, that a deficient acquaintance with literature was a handicap, even in the Klondike.
Besides that there is one chair, for which I have just improvised a leg, with the help of my knife. Besides the knife I have a fork, a plate, a cup, and a spoon borrowed from the farmer. I have a blanket and a bed consisting of an old carriage robe, rented from the farmer. I have a lamp and a kerosene-can ditto. I have a frying-pan ditto.
The kerosene-can with its spud on the spout was a household sign. Moreover, we not only had kerosene in the can, but we had it on the loaf of bread, and on almost everything that came from the grocer's. For, if the can did not leak, it sweat, and the oil of gladness was on the hands and clothes of the clerk. The grocers lifted no howl when the handling of kerosene was taken out of their hands.
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