noon
She had a pencil , sundry old envelopes carefully cut open so as to save as much of the clean space inside as possible , margins of newspapers , precious but rare half-sheets , and any other scrap of paper on which she could write , all carefully concealed in a hole in the roof , from which she tore the whole treasure now in her haste . `` Winter , summer , Sammy , '' she kept saying to herself . `` Autumn , autumn-tinted woods -- my king -- _ Ministering Children _ -- ministering -- king . Moon , noon . Story , glory . Ever , never , endeavour . Oh , I can do it !