THE SUGAR MOON 39 



looked curiously down through the bare 

 branches to see what he was about at midnight 

 in the sugar bush, she found him intent upon 

 his task. 



But Farmer Brier grew very tired, so tired 

 that sleepiness crept over him, a drowsiness 

 not to be thrown off. And so the ladle moved 

 slower and slower ; he sank down on a log and 

 leaned against a tree, yielding to the enchant- 

 ment of moon and firelight and the music of 

 the dripping sap. 



Drip, drip fell the sap into the pails, with 

 different notes, some loud, some low, some 

 quick, some slow, some near, some far away. 

 Higher danced the flames, as if to look farther 

 into the dark mystery of the wood; sputter, 

 sputter, came from the boiling caldron; but 

 Farmer Brier slept. 



And now the little dancing figure with the 

 firelight for a partner, glided from among the 

 shadows and stole softly up to Farmer Brier, 

 taking the ladle from his tired hand. 



The dawn awoke him. Dazed, he looked 

 around. Yes, he had slept at his post. The 



