Like a fox into his hole, the child would creep into the corner where God had stored sleep for him: back he went to the barn, gently trotting, and wormed himself through the cat-hole.
The straw was gone! But he remembered the hay.

And happily, for he was tired, there stood the ladder against the loft.

Up he went, nor turned aside to the cheese; but sleep was common property still.

He groped his way forward through the dark loft until he found the hay, when at once he burrowed into it like a sand-fish into the wet sand.
All night the white horse, a glory vanished in the dark, would be close to him, behind the thin partition of boards.

He could hear his very breath as he slept, and to the music of it, audible sign of companionship, he fell fast asleep, and slept until the waking horses woke him..