The Novel Free

Time's Convert



                  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.
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