Explore "Joel: A Boy of Galilee" by Annie Fellows Johnston on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
ABIGAIL sat just inside the door, turning the noisy hand-mill that ground out the next day's supply of flour. The rough mill-stones grated so harshly on each other that she did not hear the steps coming up the path. A shadow falling across the door-way made her look up.
"You are home early, my Phineas," she said, with a smile. "Well, I shall soon have your supper ready. Joel has gone to the market for some honey and -- "