"Keep your brats out f'um under my feet." And he strode off to a barn after his team, leaving her with a fierce hate in her heart.

She heard him yelling at his team in their stalls: "Git around there, damn yeh." The children had had their supper; so she took them to bed.

She was unusually tender to them, for she wanted to make up in some way for her previous harshness.

The ferocity of her husband had shown up her own petulant temper hideously, and she sat and sobbed in the darkness a long time beside the cradle where little Pet slept.
She heard Burns come growling in and tramp about, but she did not rise.
The supper was on the table; he could wait on himself.

There was an awful feeling at her heart as she sat there and the house grew quiet.
She thought of suicide in a vague way; of somehow taking her children in her arms and sinking into a lake somewhere, where she would never more be troubled, where she could sleep forever, without toil or hunger.
Then she thought of the little turkeys wandering in the grass, of the children sleeping at last, of the quiet, wonderful stars.