"
"You ought to give him the back of your hand, and say no more
about it," declared Tom, in a tone that showed he warmed in his
bosom the family grudge against the fox-faced man.
"Here's your Cousin Nan, Tom," said his father, without making
rejoinder to the young man's observation. "She must go into
Phil's and get warm and have a cup of hot coffee. I'll take some
in a new-fangled bottle I bought down in Chicago, so we can all
have a hot drink on the way home."
"'Twon't keep warm twenty miles," said Tom.
"Yes 'twill. It'll keep HOT for twenty miles and more. They
call it a thermos bottle. It'll keep coffee hot, or cold, for a
day, just as you please."
"Jehosaphat, Dad! What kind of a swindle's that? How does the
bottle know whether you want your drink hot or cold? Huh! Those
city folks couldn't make me believe any such thing," objected the
son.
Nan had to giggle at that, and Uncle Henry demanded: "Did you
ever see such a gump? Go on down to the station and tell Abe to
fling that trunk and the bags into the back of the sled. We'll
have our coffee, and get the thermos bottle filled, too, by the
time you come back."
Nan liked tom Sherwood. He was about nineteen and almost as big
as his father.
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