midnight
We put a brown seed in the earth , and a living thing starts out -- starts upward -- why , no more than Alladeen can we say -- starts upward , and does not desist till it is higher than our heads , sparkling with dew in the early morning , glittering with yellow blossoms , shaking brown seeds with little embryo souls on to the ground . We look at it solemnly , from the time it consists of two leaves peeping above the ground and a soft white root , till we have to raise our faces to look at it ; but we find no reason for that upward starting . We look into dead ducks and lambs . In the evening we carry them home , spread newspapers on the floor , and lie working with them till midnight . With a started feeling near akin to ecstasy we open the lump of flesh called a heart , and find little doors and strings inside . We feel them , and put the heart away ; but every now and then return to look , and to feel them again . Why we like them so we can hardly tell .