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cup
Deaf
dead
dry
dull
Eat
ear
eggs
eyes
Face
feet
fish
fowl
Gate
good
grass
great
Hand
hat
head
heart
Ice
ink
isle
job
Kick
kind
kneel
know
Lamb
lame
land
long
Made
mole
moon
mouth
Name
night
noise
noon
Oak
once
one
ounce
Pain
pair
pence
pound
Quart
queen
quick
quilt
Rain
raise
rose
run
Saint
sage
salt
said
Take
talk
time
throat
Vaine
vice
vile
view
Way
wait
waste
would
6
Time
MARCH 1762
The black clock on the polished mantel struck noon, marking the passage of the hours. It stood out against the whitewashed walls of the parlor, the only ornament in the room. The family Bible and the almanac his father used to note down important events and the changing weather were propped up next to it.
Its piercing chime was one of the familiar sounds of home: his mother’s soft voice, the geese that honked in the road, his baby sister’s babble.
The clock whirred into silence, waiting for its next opportunity to perform.
“When is Pa coming back?” Marcus asked, looking up from his primer. His father hadn’t been there to preside over breakfast. He must be very hungry, thought Marcus, after missing his meal of porridge, eggs, bacon, bread, and jam. Marcus’s stomach grumbled in sympathy, and he wondered whether they would have to wait for Pa to return before eating their midday meal. ; cup
Deaf
dead
dry
dull
Eat
ear
eggs
eyes
Face
feet
fish
fowl
Gate
good
grass
great
Hand
hat
head
heart
Ice
ink
isle
job
Kick
kind
kneel
know
Lamb
lame
land
long
Made
mole
moon
mouth
Name
night
noise
noon
Oak
once
one
ounce
Pain
pair
pence
pound
Quart
queen
quick
quilt
Rain
raise
rose
run
Saint
sage
salt
said
Take
talk
time
throat
Vaine
vice
vile
view
Way
wait
waste
would
6
Time
MARCH 1762
The black clock on the polished mantel struck noon, marking the passage of the hours. It stood out against the whitewashed walls of the parlor, the only ornament in the room. The family Bible and the almanac his father used to note down important events and the changing weather were propped up next to it.
Its piercing chime was one of the familiar sounds of home: his mother’s soft voice, the geese that honked in the road, his baby sister’s babble.
The clock whirred into silence, waiting for its next opportunity to perform.
“When is Pa coming back?” Marcus asked, looking up from his primer. His father hadn’t been there to preside over breakfast. He must be very hungry, thought Marcus, after missing his meal of porridge, eggs, bacon, bread, and jam. Marcus’s stomach grumbled in sympathy, and he wondered whether they would have to wait for Pa to return before eating their midday meal.
