WHEN I WAS A KID, MAYBE TWELVE OR THIRTEEN, WHAT I MOST wanted was to be outside somewhere, in the woods or crouching in the high grass in the fields of Mrs. Hale’s estate, next to my friend Peter Lord’s house, late at night, almost dawn, and knowing that my friends were scattered about the field...
THEY began with setting the home in order for the day, so that it might already be industrious when the sun climbed first the invisible horizon and then the branches of the dark trees. Fill the stove box with wood. Fill the milk pail with milk. (How that pail clanking agai...
