He gazed in all directions, but he saw no shelter where he could lodge.  It was a dark and chilly night, with wind and drizzle.  It grew more terrible and disagreeable around him every second.

This may sound strange, perhaps, but the travellers didn’t seem to have the least desire to ask for house-room on any farm.  They had already passed many parishes without knocking at a single door.  Little hillside cabins on the outskirts of the forests, which all poor wanderers are glad to run across, they took no notice of either.  One might almost be tempted to say they deserved to have a hard time of it, since they did not seek help where it was to be had for the asking.

But finally, when it was so dark that there was scarcely a glimmer of light left under the skies and the two who needed sleep journeyed on in a kind of half-sleep, they happened into a farmyard which was a long way off from all neighbours.  And not only did it lie there desolate, but it appeared to be uninhabited as well.  No smoke rose from the chimney; no light shone through the windows; no human being moved on the place.  When the one among the three who could keep awake, saw the place, he thought:  “Now come what may, we must try to get in here.  Anything better we are not likely to find.”

Soon after that, all three stood in the house-yard.  Two of them fell asleep the instant they stood still, but the third looked about him eagerly, to find where they could get under cover.  It was not a small farm.  Beside the dwelling house and stable and smoke-house, there were long ranges with granaries and storehouses and cattlesheds.  But it all looked awfully poor and dilapidated.  The houses had gray, moss-grown, leaning walls, which seemed ready to topple over.  In the roofs were yawning holes, and the doors hung aslant on broken hinges.  It was apparent that no one had taken the trouble to drive a nail into a wall on this place for a long time.

Meanwhile, he who was awake had figured out which house was the cowshed.  He roused his travelling companions from their sleep, and conducted them to the cowshed door.  Luckily, this was not fastened with anything but a hook, which he could easily push up with a rod.  He heaved a sigh of relief at the thought that they should soon be in safety.  But when the cowshed door swung open with a sharp creaking, he heard a cow begin to bellow.  “Are you coming at last, mistress?” said she.  “I thought that you didn’t propose to give me any supper to-night.”

The one who was awake stopped in the doorway, absolutely terrified when he discovered that the cowshed was not empty.  But he soon saw that there was not more than one cow, and three or four chickens; and then he took courage again.  “We are three poor travellers who want to come in somewhere, where no fox can assail us, and no human being capture us,” said he.  “We wonder if this can be a good place for us.”  “I cannot believe but what it is,” answered the cow.  “To