Nobody bashed on the door all evening. And I’d got a big bag of sweets and everything,
I can’t understand why no kids come down here.
Unless it’s the fact the Old Rectory is next to a mediaeval churchyard.
At the end of a yew-bordered lane.
With no street lights.
And the chains in the fence do kind of rattle in the wind.
And, of course, you’ve got to walk past the stile where Jeb gibbets the foxes and crows, as an example to the others.
Apart from that, I can’t imagine what could be putting them off.