"I ain't goin' to let you go to ruin because you ain't well, not if I know it.

You've got to mind, sick or well, an' you might jest as well know it.

I'll have one child obey me, whether or no.

Set up to the table." Ephraim drew up his chair, whimpering; but he fell to on the milk-toast with ardor, and his hand dropped from his side.

He had eaten half a plateful when his father came in.