It was dusk there, and still.

Temperance was by the fire, attending to something which was cooking.
"What is there for supper, Temperance?
I am hungry." "I spose you are," she answered crossly.

"You'll see when it's on the table." She took a coal of fire with the tongs, and blew it fiercely, to light a lamp by.

When it was alight, she set it on the chimney-shelf, revealing thereby a man at the back of the room, balancing his chair on two legs against the wail; his feet were on its highest round, and he twirled his thumbs.
"Hum," he said, when he saw me observing him; "this is the oldest darter, is it ?" "Yes," Temperance bawled.
"She is a good solid gal; but I can't recollect her christened name." "It is Cassandra." "Why, 'taint Scriptur'." "Why don't you go and take off your things ?" Temperance asked, abruptly.
"I'll leave them here; the fire is agreeable." "There is a better fire in the keeping-room." "How are you, Mr.Handy ?" father inquired, coming in.
"I should be well, if my grinders didn't trouble me; they play the mischief o'nights.

Have you heard from the _Adamant_, Mr.Morgeson?
I should like to get my poor boy's chist.