He was wide awake and out of bed with all his wits by him in a moment.
"Sh! sh!" he said, "or you'll wake Oscar." Oscar was a colley (_sheep dog_) which slept in a kennel in the cornyard.

He was not much of a watch-dog, for there was no great occasion for watching, and he knew it, and slept like a human child; but he was the most knowing of dogs.

Turkey was proceeding to dress.
"Never mind your clothes, Turkey," I said.

"There's nobody up." Willing enough to spare himself trouble, Turkey followed me in his shirt.

But once we were out in the cornyard, instead of finding contentment in the sky and the moon, as I did, he wanted to know what we were going to do.
"It's not a bad sort of night," he said; "what shall we do with it ?" He was always wanting to do something.
"Oh, nothing," I answered; "only look about us a bit." "You didn't hear robbers, did you ?" he asked.
"Oh dear, no! I couldn't sleep, and got down the ladder, and came to wake you--that's all." "Let's have a walk, then," he said.
Now that I had Turkey, there was scarcely more terror in the night than in the day.