The little window, spun over with cobwebs, had a piece of candle and a mouse-trap on the dusty sill.

There were clotheslines criss-crossed overhead and, hanging from a peg on the wall, a very big, a huge, rusty horseshoe.

The table was in the middle with a form at either side.
"You can't be a bee, Kezia.

A bee's not an animal.

It's a ninseck." "Oh, but I do want to be a bee frightfully," wailed Kezia...