As he walked along he tipped up his face and stared with his stupid boyish eyes at the stars paling in the full moonlight, and the great moon herself overriding the clouds and the stars.  It made him think of the catechism and the Commandments, and then a little pang of terror shot through him, but even that did not daunt him.  He did not look up at the stars again, but bent his head and trudged on, with the sled-rope pulling at his weak chest.

When he reached his own yard he stepped as carefully as he could; still he was not afraid.  He put the sled back in the shed; then he stole into the house.  He took off his shoes in the entry, and got safely into his own room.  He was in his night-gown and all ready for bed when another daring thought struck him.

Ephraim padded softly on his bare feet out through the kitchen to the pantry.  Every third step or so he stopped and listened to the heavy double breathing from the bedroom beyond.  So long as that continued he was safe.  He listened, and then slid on a pace or two as noiseless as a shadow in the moonlight.

Ephraim knew well where the mince-pies were kept.  There was a long row of them covered with towels on an upper shelf.

Ephraim hoisted himself painfully upon a meal-bucket, and clawed a pie over the edge of the shelf.  He could scarcely reach, and there was quite a loud grating noise.  He stood trembling on the bucket and listened, but the double breathing continued.  Deborah had been unusually tired that night; she had gone to bed earlier, and slept more soundly.

Ephraim broke a great jagged half from the mince-pie; then replaced it with another grating slide.  Again he listened, but his mother had not been awakened.

Ephraim crept back to his bedroom.  There he sat on the edge of his bed and devoured his pie.  The rich spicy compound and the fat plums melted on his tongue, and the savor thereof delighted his very soul.  Then Ephraim got into bed and pulled the quilts over him.  For the first and only occasion in his life he had had a good time.

The next morning Ephraim felt very ill, but he kept it from his mother.  He took his medicine of his own accord several times, and turned his head from her, that she might not notice his laboring breath.

In the middle of the forenoon Deborah went out.  She had to drive over to Bolton to get some sugar and tea.  She would not buy anything now at Berry’s store.  Caleb had gone down to the lot to cut a little wood; he had harnessed the horse for her before he went.  It was a cold day, and she wrapped herself up well in two shawls and a thick veil over her hood.  When she was all ready she gave Ephraim his parting instructions, rearing over him with stern gestures, like a veiled justice.

“Now,” said she, “you listen to what I tell you.  When your father comes in you tell him I want him to set right down and finish parin’ them apples.  They are spoilin’, an’ I’m goin’ to make ’em into sauce.  You tell him to set right down and go to work on ’em; he can get ’em done by the time I get home, an’ I can make the sauce this afternoon.  You set here an’ take your medicine an’ learn your catechism.  You can study over the Commandments, too; you ain’t got ’em any too well.  Do you hear?”