In Our Time Read Online Free Page A

looking out across the country, down over the orchard, beyond the road, across the lower fields and the woods of the point to the lake. The wind was blowing straight down the lake. They could see the surf along Ten Mile point.
    â€œShe’s blowing,” Nick said.
    â€œShe’ll blow like that for three days,” Bill said.
    â€œIs your dad in?” Nick said.
    â€œNo. He’s out with the gun. Come on in.”
    Nick went inside the cottage. There was a big fire in the fireplace. The wind made it roar. Bill shut the door.
    â€œHave a drink?” he said.
    He went out to the kitchen and came back with two glasses and a pitcher of water. Nick reached the whisky bottle from the shelf above the fireplace.
    â€œAll right?” he said.
    â€œGood,” said Bill.
    They sat in front of the fire and drank the Irish whisky and water.
    â€œIt’s got a swell, smoky taste,” Nick said, and looked at the fire through the glass.
    â€œThat’s the peat,” Bill said.
    â€œYou can’t get peat into liquor,” Nick said.
    â€œThat doesn’t make any difference,” Bill said.
    â€œYou ever seen any peat?” Nick asked.
    â€œNo,” said Bill.
    â€œNeither have I,” Nick said.
    His shoes, stretched out on the hearth, began to steam in front of the fire.
    â€œBetter take your shoes off,” Bill said.
    â€œI haven’t got any socks on.”
    â€œTake them off and dry them and I’ll get you some,” Bill said. He went upstairs into the loft and Nick heard him walking about overhead. Upstairs was open under the roof and was where Bill and his father and he, Nick, sometimes slept. In back was a dressing room. They moved the cots back out of the rain and covered them with rubber blankets.
    Bill came down with a pair of heavy wool socks.
    â€œIt’s getting too late to go around without socks,” he said.
    â€œI hate to start them again,” Nick said. He pulled the socks on and slumped back in the chair, putting his feet up on the screen in front of the fire.
    â€œYou’ll dent in the screen,” Bill said. Nick swung his feet over to the side of the fireplace.
    â€œGot anything to read?” he asked.
    â€œOnly the paper.”
    â€œWhat did the Cards do?”
    â€œDropped a double header to the Giants.”
    â€œThat ought to cinch it for them.”
    â€œIt’s a gift,” Bill said. “As long as McGraw can buy every good ball player in the league there’s nothing to it.”
    â€œHe can’t buy them all,” Nick said.
    â€œHe buys all the ones he wants,” Bill said. “Or he makes them discontented so they have to trade them to him.”
    â€œLike Heinie Zim,” Nick agreed.
    â€œThat bonehead will do him a lot of good.”
    Bill stood up.
    â€œHe can hit,” Nick offered. The heat from the fire was baking his legs.
    â€œHe’s a sweet fielder, too,” Bill said. “But he loses ball games.”
    â€œMaybe that’s what McGraw wants him for,” Nick suggested.
    â€œMaybe,” Bill agreed.
    â€œThere’s always more to it than we know about,” Nick said.
    â€œOf course. But we’ve got pretty good dope for being so far away.”
    â€œLike how much better you can pick them if you don’t see the horses.”
    â€œThat’s it.”
    Bill reached down for the whisky bottle. His big hand went all the way around it. He poured the whisky into the glass Nick held out.
    â€œHow much water?”
    â€œJust the same.”
    He sat down on the floor beside Nick’s chair.
    â€œIt’s good when the fall storms come, isn’t it?” Nick said.
    â€œIt’s swell.”
    â€œIt’s the best time of year,” Nick said.
    â€œWouldn’t it be hell to be in town?” Bill said.
    â€œI’d like to see the World Series,” Nick said.
    â€œWell, they’re always in New York or Philadelphia