"The apples I left for you to pare. I want to put 'em on before I get
dinner."
"I ain't heard nothin' about apples, mother."
"Ain't you pared any apples this forenoon?"
"I didn't know as you wanted any pared, mother."
Deborah turned fiercely on Ephraim.
"Ephraim Thayer, look here!" said she. Ephraim turned his poor blue
face slowly; his breath came shortly between his parted lips; he
clapped one hand to his side. "Didn't you tell your father to pare
them apples, the way I told you to?" she demanded.
Ephraim dropped his chin lower.
"Answer me!"
"No, ma'am."
"What have you been a-doin' of?"
"Playin'."
"Playin' what?"
"Holly-gull."
Deborah stood quite still for a moment. Her mouth tightened; she grew
quite pale. Ephraim and Caleb watched her. Deborah strode across the
room, out into the shed.
"I guess she won't say much; don't you be scared, Ephraim," whispered
Caleb.
But Ephraim, curious to say, did not feel scared. Suddenly his mother
seemed to have lost all her terrifying influence over him. He felt
very strange, and as if he were sinking away from it all through deep
abysses.
His mother came back, and she held a stout stick in her right hand.
Caleb gasped when he saw it. "Mother, you ain't goin' to whip him?"
he cried out.
"Father, you keep still!" commanded Deborah. "Ephraim, you come with
me!"
She led the way into Ephraim's little bedroom, and he stumbled up and
followed her.
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