midnight
Ye can not explain it . 'T is a something ye have that 's bred in the bone . Ye 're a born man of the North -- an ' God pity ye for the job ye 've got ! Cooped up in a store all day with the fanfare of a city dingin ' your ears from dawn till midnight , an ' beyond ! An ' what 's the good of it ? When ye might be living up here in the land that still lays as God made it . The Company can use men like you .