"I wondah if he knows I'm tryin' to follow him." Over the churchyard hill the new moon swung its slender crescent of light, and into its silvery wake there trembled out of the darkness a shining star.
* * * * * The roadside ditches are covered with ice, these cold winter mornings.
The ruts in the muddy pike are frozen as hard as stone.

John Jay shuffles along in his big shoes on his way to school, out at the toes and out at his elbows; but there is a broad smile all over his bright little face.

Wherever he can find a strip of ice to slide across, he goes with a rush and a whoop.

Sometimes there is only a raw turnip and a piece of corn pone in his pocket for dinner.

His feet and fingers are always numb with cold by the time he reaches the school house, but his eyes still shine, and his whistle never loses its note of cheeriness.
There are whippings and scoldings in the schoolhouse, just as there have always been whippings and scoldings in the cabin; for no sooner is he thawed out after his long walk, than he begins to be the worry of his teacher's life, as he was the torment of Mammy's.