Oliver Onions

“ There was a little square table with a green cloth in the nursery-room, and George, away at Oxford, had shown Eddy how to put books and lumpy things under the cloth, so as to make green hills and valleys. Eddy got out the soldiers from the cupboard, and they shared them and marshalled their forces; but somehow Eddy did not enjoy the battle very much. He was beginning to wish they hadn't made a ghost. Ghosts are one thing in the afternoon, but different when the November night seems to come all of a sudden. ”

“ He kept saying the word over to himself; but instead of becoming more familiar, it seemed to become less so. With the darkling evening it was no longer fair and mild and beaming, but a grinning, flapping thing that said "Moo-oo!" and scared people to death. ”

“ Eddy whispered gleefully when Williams had turned his back. "Is a ghost the same as a nasty boggart, John?"
The light of the short afternoon began to fail, and the crows to fly homeward to the plantation. Over the turnip-field the sun became a smoky, bulging disc, and then showed only a rusty upper edge almost lost in the mists. Lapwings wheeled and cried plaintively across the ploughed land; the cart rumbled off down the road; and a light appeared in a kitchen window. The boys got an old besom and an apron, finished their spectre, and set it behind the hedge near the wicket-gate ”

“ John replied. "I say—you can get a candle, can't you?"
"What for?"
"Why, to make the ghost; their eyes shine dreadfully, an' you have to have a candle."
"Yes," said Eddy; and then his own eyes shone, and he clapped his chubby hands. "'N John! we'll put it behind the hedge, by the little gate, 'n frighten Williams 'n Johnnie because they spoiled our fire, won't we?"
"Yes; come on!"
As they walked they ate the wedges that John half cut, half broke from the spare turnip. John grumbled because the turnip was cold and Williams had banked up the hot potatoes. ”

“ John cried, and ran off to the kitchen to get some. They crouched down, turning their faces away, and set the potatoes in the grey ash that the wind fanned every moment into beautiful bright salmons and pinks and roses; and their eyes ran and smarted with the pungent smoke. In five minutes they had the potatoes out, to see if they were cooked. They were all raw, and burnt their mouths; and when they had set them back again, Eddy gazed into the fire.
"There's a big book upstairs 't they burn people in fires," he said by and by, "'n a man put his hand in first, 'cos it had written ... ”

“ By and by he pushed his plate aside and looked at John; his brows were drawn upward a little.
"I say, John," he said, "shall we have a soldier-battle?"
"We're going out to do the ghost; it's nearly dark now," John replied.
"It isn't nearly midnight," said Eddy, a little troubled; "we might have just a short soldier-battle——"
"Ghosts are better at midnight," John mused; "but they won't let us stay up. They stop haunting people when the cock crows; they have to go back to the churchyard then." ”