midnight
Bring the table to the fire , Mr. Vawdrey , please , and let us make ourselves comfortable , '' concluded Miss McCroke , with an assumption of mild cheerfulness . Perhaps there is not in all nature so cheerful a thing as a good sea-coal fire , with a log of beechwood on the top of the coals . It will be cheerful in the face of affliction . It sends out its gushes of warmth and brightness , its gay little arrowy flames that appear and disappear like elves dancing their midnight waltzes on a barren moor . It seems to say : `` Look at me and be comforted ! Look at me and hope ! So from the dull blackness of sorrow rise the many coloured lights of new-born joy . ''