noon
Gethryn swung along at a good pace , pulling his cap down and fastening the last button of his coat . The trees threw long shadows across the path , hiding it from view , except where the moonlight fell white on the moist gravel . The moon herself was past the full and not very bright ; a film of mist was drawing over the sky . Gethryn , looking up , thought of that gentle moon which once sailed ghostlike at high noon through the blue zenith among silver clouds while a boy lay beside the stream with rod and creel ; and then he remembered the dear old yellow moon that used to flood the nursery with pools of light and pile strange moving shades about his bed . And then he saw , still looking up , the great white globe that hung above the frozen river , striking blue sparks from the ringing skates . He felt lonely and a trifle homesick . For the first time in his life -- he was still so young -- he thought of his childhood and his boyhood as something gone beyond recall .