Later he slept in the haymow and lay awake far into the night, listening in doubt and despair to the drip of the rain on the roof.
Nothing ever went quite right.

He must read again in Brian's letter about the Tavern of Stars.

Beldame Rain seemed bent upon a housecleaning.

Kenny, dreaming, departed from the barn in a flying machine made of lilacs.

Its planes, he regretted, seemed merely sheets of rain, specked foolishly with pine-needles.
He awoke to a subdued noise of voices in the barn below and wondered disapprovingly if the farmer was just getting home.