He looked half scared, half important, as he sat in the great rocking-chair by the fire.

He breathed short, and his words were disconnected as he spoke.
His mother, for answer, took the catechism from the shelf, and extended it towards him with a decisive thrust of her arm.
"It is time you studied some more," said she.
Ephraim jerked himself away from the proffered book.

"I don't want to study any more now, mother," he whined.
"Take it," said Deborah.
Caleb was paring apples for pies on the other side of the hearth.
Ephraim looked across at him desperately.

"I want to play holly-gull with father," he said.
"Ephraim!" "Can't I play holly-gull with father jest a little while ?" "You take this book and study your lesson," said Deborah, between nearly closed lips.
Ephraim began to weep; he took the book with a vicious snatch and an angry sob.

"Won't never let me do anythin' I want to," he cried, convulsively.
"Not another word," said Deborah.