ten o'clock before
He wondered why he had never done this before . It was youth daring Fate , without show or bravado or fear ; rolling the honey under his tongue and drawing in its sweetness ; youth , that lives for the moment , that can be blind to the threatening future , that can forget the mean past ; youth slipping along with some chewing-gum between his teeth and a warm sensation in his stew-crammed stomach , whistling , dreaming , happy ; youth , that can , without premeditation , remain away from home and leave udders untapped and pigs unfed ; sublime enigma ; angering bit of irresponsibility to the Martins of a fiercely practical world . Bill was that rare kind of boy who could pull away from the traces just when he seemed most thoroughly broken to the harness . It was ten o'clock before he got his pony out of the livery barn and started for home . Even on the way , he refused to imagine what would happen . He entered the house quietly , as though to tell his father that it was his next move , and setting his bundle of books on a chair , he glanced at his mother . She was at the stove , where an armful of kindling had been set off to take the chill out of the house .