"Yes," said the farmer, "that's just about the place."
"Besides," said she, "it isn't time for the moon to rise. It don't rise now till midnight."
He turned away, and walked slowly across the room, to where the almanac was hanging. He seemed very sleepy. He turned over the leaves, and then said, "Moon rises—eight hours and fifty minutes; that is,—let's see,—ten minutes before nine."
"Well," said his wife, "and 'tisn't much past eight now."
"It's the moon, you may depend," said the farmer; "perhaps our time is a little out." So he returned to the chair, sat down in it, and put his feet out towards the fire.
"Well," said his wife, "we shall know pretty soon; for, if it is the moon, it will soon rise higher."
So they all stood a few minutes, and watched the light. It seemed to enlarge a little, and to grow somewhat brighter; but it did not move from its place.
"It certainly must be a fire," said the farmer's wife again; "and I wish, husband, that you'd let the boys take Kate in the sleigh, and go along the pond and see."
"I've no objection," said the farmer, "if they've a mind to take that trouble; but they'll find nothing but the moon, they may depend."
"Let's go," said Amos.