morning, noon
I had always known my mother was sick , but now I got a `` skute '' -LRB- as old Tommy used to say -RRB- into the cause of her illness . It was a matter of milk . The doctor 's boy had heard his father saying so . If my mother could only have milk morning , noon and night , every day and all day , `` there would n't be nothing the matter with her . '' This , too , impressed me deeply , and the form it took in my mind was that `` mammy was n't sed enough , '' a conclusion that gained colour from the fact that I saw Betsy Beauty perched up in a high chair in the dining-room twice or thrice a day , drinking nice warm milk fresh from the cow . We had three cows , I remember , and to correct the mischief of my mother 's illness , I determined that henceforth she should not have merely more of our milk -- she should have all of it . Losing no time in carrying my intentions into effect , I crept into the dairy as soon as the dairymaid had brought in the afternoon 's milking .