midnight
Hooray , boys ! '' said the Prodigal . About one o'clock in the morning the birds began to sing , and the sunset glow had not faded from the sky ere the sunrise quickened it with life once more . Who that has lived in the North will ever forget the charm , the witchery of those midnight skies , where the fires of the sun are banked and never cold ? Surely , long after all else is forgotten , will linger the memory of those mystic nights with all their haunting spell of weird , disconsolate solitude . One afternoon I was working on the dump , intent on shovelling in as much dirt as possible before supper , when , on looking up , who should greet me but Locasto . Since our last interview in town I had not seen him , and , somehow , this sudden sight of him came as a kind of a shock .