Over the mixture she shook out the contents of one of her little paper packets of magic.

All this she boiled over her fire for many hours, sitting beside it in the silver darkness, with her knees drawn up and her hands clasped in front of them.

The trees sprang up into the moonlight like dark fountains from the pools of their own shadows.

Little shreds of cloud flowed wonderfully across the sky.

There was no sound except the sound of the water, like an uncertain player upon a little instrument.