She put the spinning-wheel into the neuk window-stand and the woo-wheel against the wall.

They would not be wanted now.

She cleared the sconce and took down the flitches that hung from the rannel-tree to dry.

Then she cooked the early breakfast of oatmeal porridge, and took the milk that the boy brought from the cow shed and put it into the dishes that she had placed on the long oak table which stretched across the kitchen.
Willy Ray had been coming and going most of the night from the kitchen to his own room--a little carpeted closet of a bedroom that went out from the first landing on the stairs, and looked up to the ghyll at the back.

The wee place was more than his sleeping-room; he had his books there, but he had neither slept nor read that night.