What's to be done?
The ice won't bear you, and you've got no shelter." The rough fellow shook his head.
"Nay, but it wean't rain, and I can sit close to the fire and keep mysen warm." "But you ought to have some cover." "Ay, I ought to hev some cover, and I'll get my punt ashore, and turn her up, and sit under her." "And no wraps! Look here, I shall be warm enough skating back.

I'll lend you my coat." "Nay, nay, lad," said Dave, with his eyes twinkling, and his face looking less grim.

"Keep on thy coat, lad, I wean't hev it.

Thankye, though, all the same, and thou shalt hev a good bit o' sport for that, Mester Dick.

But, theer, you two had best go back." "But we don't like leaving you," said Tom.
"Thankye, lads, thankye.