Chapter 17 BED TIME[L]

When the golden day is done,

Through the closing portal,

Child and garden, flower and sun,

Vanish all things mortal.

Robert Louis Stevenson.

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BED-TIME

Auld Daddy Darkness

Auld Daddy Darkness creeps frae his hole,

Black as a blackamoor, blin' as a mole:

Stir the fire till it lowes, let the bairnie sit,

Auld Dadd