The favorite folk tale motif of the silly peasant is combined with the favorite cautionary theme of the uselessness of fighting the night. An old woman who lives ""high in the hills near Hexham"" tries to get rid of the night -- by sweeping it away, catching it in a sack, boiling it away in a cauldron, even in desperation spitting on it -- ""But the night took no notice,"" and when day comes, Hildilid is so tired that she goes to sleep. Quiet black and white pictures (the background black, for night) save the simple story by keying it low. An agreeable bedtime read-aloud, with a reassuring golden sunburst at the end.