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and Peggy moving by the stove and sink.
    The stable door was partway open, and I pushed it further. Surely Jacob must have known I had entered because of the creak of the door and the whoosh of nippy outdoor air that blew in with me. But he didn't look over. He was stroking Jed's big, soft face, humming. From her stall, Dahlia watched; then she tossed her head and turned her dark eyes on me in a kind of question. So I went to her.
    I wasn't afraid at all. Being with Jacob the day we took him to the mill, my father and I, had made me familiar with his gentleness, and Peggy, too, had spoken of his special way with animals, so I knew he was nothing to be wary of.
    And I liked the sound he was making, a kind of singing that wasn't real singing at all. I wondered if he would mind my joining in, so I watched his face, tried to catch onto the same note, and kept at it when I saw that it didn't make him uneasy.
    The horses seemed soothed by it. They stood quietly, and I stroked Dahlia as the touched boy was stroking Jed, so that we made a kind of rhythm with our hands and our humming.
    I knew I would hear Mother call very soon and that I would have to go. So I went over to the oat barrel and took two handfuls. I knew I shouldn't, for horses must not have too many oats or they sicken. But the handfuls were small. I gave one to Jacob, pouring them into his open hand, and then we each gave our oats to a horse, the two huge wrinkled mouths opening and the long pink tongues coming out, eager and pleased.
    "No more, though," I whispered to Jacob. "They mustn't have too much or they'll come down with colic."
    Then I felt embarrassed to have said it. "You know that already," I told him. "Peggy says you tend the animals on the farm. It was foolish of me to remind you. I'm sorry."
    But he paid no attention. He was back to stroking the great quivery nose of the horse.
    "Katy! Supper!" My mother's voice came from the porch.
    "I must go," I told Jacob politely.
    "Remember, their names are Jed and Dahlia?" I said. "Jed's that one there."
    "I'm Katy," I added. "Remember?"
    He didn't look at me.
    "Peggy's in our kitchen helping with supper," I said. "And your other sister, Nellie? She's next door. Right over there." I pointed toward the Bishops house, through the open stable door.
    "Katy!" My mother's voice again.
    "Goodbye," I said hastily. I left him there and left the stable, calling to Mother as I ran toward the house. "Coming!"
    From my bedroom window that night I looked down and saw that the door to the stable was closed and the brown dog had disappeared. I knew that the touched boy was gone, that he had run the four miles home through the dark. That night was the first frost. In the morning the last apples hung frozen in our tree.

5. DECEMBER 1910
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    Snow! When I woke, I could feel the silence of it. There was frost on my window, and the room was cold. It had been cold when I went to bed, but now it was a different kind of cold, a quiet kind.
    I didn't get up at first. I snuggled there under my blue and white quilt, thinking about how it would look outside. The world changes so, with the first snow. Ghost shapes appear where bushes have been.
    Finally I heard Father and Mother talking in their bedroom, and then I heard Father's footsteps on the stairs, and I knew he would tend the
furnace, shoveling in some more coal, and the house would warm a bit. Doors opened and closed below. After a moment I heard Naomi arrive and stamp snow from her feet in the kitchen, and I pictured her starting the oatmeal.
    The door to my room opened and Mother, wearing her blue dressing gown, looked in at me. She was over what Peggy had told me was called "morning sickness."
    "No school today, Katy! Naomi barely made it here. If she had a telephone I would have called and told her not to come. Peggy and I could have made breakfast. But Naomi's a real soldier. She trudged right through it."
    Mother's long hair was still down. I loved seeing mother with her hair