"'Well, why don't you make 'em? You could do it o' slabs you could split out o' logs from your own woodland, an' the crick freezes ev'ry winter, when you an' your hosses has got next to nothin' to do. Besides havin' ice-cream from milk that you've all got more of than you know what to do with, you could kill a critter once in a while in the summer, an' keep the meat cool; you could have fresh meat off an' on, instead o' cookin' pork seven days o' the week in hot weather, when it sickens the women an' children to look at it.' They 'lowed that that was so, an' they jawed it over for a while, an'--well, three or four ice-houses are goin' up, between farms, next winter, an' we'll sell some freezers, an' some men'll let up on drinkin'; for the worst bum o' the lot 'lowed that he'd trade his thirsty any time, an' throw in a quart o' Bustpodder's best to boot, for a good square fill o' friz milk." "So even ice-cream is a means of grace, Caleb--eh?" said Philip. "That's what it is, an' I notice, too, that you don't laugh under your mustache, like you used to do, when mention's made o' means o' grace." But what rose is without its thorn? In the course of a few days the word went about, among the very large class to whom everything is fuel for the flame of gossip, that a lot of the Grand Army men had been taken into the Somerton house, and found it a palace, the things in which must have cost thousands of dollars, and that it was a shame and an outrage that money should have been made out of the poor, overworked country people to support two young stuck-ups from the city in more luxury than Queen Elizabeth ever dreamed of; for who ever read in history books of Queen Elizabeth having ice-cream? and didn't the history books say that she had only rushes on her floors, instead of even a rag carpet, to say nothing of picture carpets like the Somertons'? When the rumor reached the store, Philip ground his teeth, but Grace laughed. "I believe you'd laugh, even if they called your husband a swindler," said Philip. "Indeed I would, at anything so supremely ridiculous," Grace said. "Wouldn't you, Caleb?" "I reckon I would. Anyhow, it sounds a mighty sight better than the noise Philip made; besides, it's healthier for the teeth. It shows 'em off better, too." "Now, Mr. Crosspatch, how do you feel?" "Utterly crushed. But what are you going to do about it?" "I'm going to make those gossips ashamed of themselves." "How?"