Explore "The Yearling" by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Penny Baxter lay awake beside the vast sleeping bulk of his wife. He was always wakeful on the full moon. He had often wondered whether, with the light so bright, men were not meant to go into their fields and labor. He would like to slip from his bed and perhaps cut down an oak for wood, or finish the hoeing that Jody had left undone.
"I reckon I'd ought to of crawled him about it," he thought.