midnight
Here the gophers frolic in the quiet summer afternoons , and steal what is left of the children 's dinners from the tin pails behind the door . The porch smells of crumbs . Away to the east , Oak Creek runs through a wooded belt of fertile lands , its tall elms and spruce giving a grateful shade to the farmers ' cattle . To the north are the sand-hills of the Aissinboine , where stiff spruce trees stand like sentinels on the red sand ; but no tiny seedling had ever been brought to the school-yard , no kind hand had ever sought to relieve that desolate grayness , bleak and lonely as a rainy midnight in a deserted house . Inside , the walls are dull with age , so dark and smoked you would think they could become no darker shade , but on the ceiling above the long stovepipe that runs from the stove at the door to the chimney at the other end , there runs a darker streak still . The stove is a big , square box , set on four stubby feet , and bears the name `` Sultana . '' Some small effort has been made to brighten the walls .