Oh, why, why had they shut the door?
While they were playing, the day had faded; the gorgeous sunset had blazed and died.

And now the quick dark came racing over the sea, over the sand-hills, up the paddock.

You were frightened to look in the corners of the washhouse, and yet you had to look with all your might.
And somewhere, far away, grandma was lighting a lamp.

The blinds were being pulled down; the kitchen fire leapt in the tins on the mantelpiece.
"It would be awful now," said the bull, "if a spider was to fall from the ceiling on to the table, wouldn't it ?" "Spiders don't fall from ceilings." "Yes, they do.

Our Min told us she'd seen a spider as big as a saucer, with long hairs on it like a gooseberry." Quickly all the little heads were jerked up; all the little bodies drew together, pressed together.
"Why doesn't somebody come and call us ?" cried the rooster.
Oh, those grown-ups, laughing and snug, sitting in the lamp-light, drinking out of cups! They'd forgotten about them.