He had still two turnips left, but, after the bannock, he did not seem to want them, and stowed them in the ends of the sleeves of his jacket, folded back into great cuffs.
All day the cold spring weather continued, with more of the past winter in it than of the coming summer.

The sun would shine out for a few moments, with a grey, weary, old light, then retreat as if he had tried, but really could not.

Once came a slight fall of snow, which, however, melted the moment it touched the earth.

The wind kept blowing cheerlessly by fits, and the world seemed growing tired of the same thing over again so often.

At length the air began to grow dusk: then, first, fears of the darkness, to Gibbie utterly unknown before, and only born of the preceding night, began to make him aware of their existence in the human world.