The loaves of bread were under the shawl of the woman who had supported Festus Clasby when he stumbled; the bacon was under another bright shawl; the tobacco and flour fell to the lot of her whose yellow breast showed the play of much sun and many winds; the tea and sugar and the nutmeg and caraway seeds were under the wing of the wife of the Son of the Bard in the Can with the Diamond Notch.
BOTH SIDES OF THE POND
I
Mrs. Donohoe marked the clearness of the sky, the number and brightness of the stars.
"There will be a share of frost to-night, Denis," she said.
Denis Donohoe, her son, adjusted a primitive bolt on the stable door, then sniffed at the air, his broad nostrils quivering sensitively as he raised his head.
"There is ice in the wind," he said.
"Make a start with the turf to the market to-morrow," his mother advised. "People in town will be wanting fires now."