make 'em mind."

It was settled, without any further discussion, that Jonas's plan in
regard to the writing should be adopted, and that his scholars would
obey his directions in other things, whatever they might be. Jonas then
proceeded as follows:--

"Now, you see that, if we go on so three evenings, you will all have got
three lessons, and the fourth evening we will have for recitation. I
will hear you spell, and examine your writing, and see if your sums are
done right."

Jonas's exposition of the plan of his school was here interrupted by the
farmer's wife, who, as she sat at the end of the settle towards the
fire, had her face somewhat turned towards the window, and she saw a
light at a distance near the horizon.

"What light is that?" said she.

Jonas and all his school rose, and went to the window to see.

The window looked towards the pond. They looked off across a sort of
bay, beyond which there was a long point of land,--the one which the
boys had had to sail around when they went to mill. Just over this land,
and near the extremity of it, a light was to be seen, as if from a fire,
beyond and behind the land.

"That's exactly in the direction of the village," said Amos.

"It is a house on fire, I know," said Oliver,--"or a store."

"It looks like a fire, certainly," said Jonas.

"Yes," said the farmer's wife; "and you must go, boys, and help put it
out."

"It is several miles off," said Amos.

"Yes, but put Kate into the light sleigh, and she'll carry you there
over the pond in twenty minutes.--Here, husband, husband," she
continued, calling to the farmer, who was still asleep in his chair,
"here's a fire."

The farmer opened his eyes, and sat upright in his chair, and asked what
was the matter.

"Here's a fire," she repeated, "over in the village; hadn't the boys
better go and put it out?"

The farmer rose, walked very deliberately to the window, looked a minute
at the light, and then said,--

"It's nothing but the moon."

"The moon?--no, it can't be the moon, husband," said she. "The moon
don't rise there."

"Yes," said the farmer, "that's just about the place."

"Besides," said she, "it isn't time for the moon to rise. It don't rise
now till midnight."

He turned away, and walked slowly across the room, to where the almanac
was hanging. He seemed very sleepy. He turned over the leaves, and then
said, "Moon rises--eight hours and fifty minutes; that is,--let's
see,--ten minutes