To the darkness and the night, the spirits seem to have a natural claim - it is their realm; the boldest of us have sometimes felt an unaccountable creeping in the thick darkness.

at night when all asleep; the spirits dance in the moonlight

It would seem that the ant works its way tentatively, and, observing where it fails, tries another place and succeeds.

Almost every labourer has his Sunday suit, very often really good clothes, sometimes glossy black, with the regulation 'chimney pot'. His unfortunate walk betrays him, dress how he will.

It is an awful, an appalling thought, that we may be, this moment and every moment, in the presence of malignant spirits.

Their post people just killed us all night long.