“Do you know what you deserve?” asked Father. Not a sound in reply. “You shall escape this time,” continued Father. “I think you will remember your Mother’s tears now better than a whipping; but another time—do you hear?”,
It was a little farther to go home around past Aunt Grenertsen’s, but he didn’t mind that, for it was interesting to watch how the apples grew and to see whether Katrina had gathered any. But day after day everything remained exactly the same. There hung the apples still—the only change being that they grew riper and riper and more tempting. Aunt Grenertsen sat gazing out of her window from behind the plants, and old Katrina, grumpy as ever, stood at the kitchen window peering over the sash curtain, in exactly the same way every day.,
“But what did your father say to all this?”.
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