He glanced up at the wall clock, which just then struck eleven.
"It's time that you were in bed," he remarked to himself. Then he
remembered that he had not yet gone the rounds of the farm yard, as it
was his custom to do every night, to make sure that all doors were
closed and all lights extinguished. This was something he had never
neglected since he became master. He drew on his coat and went out in
the storm.
He found everything as it should be, save that the door to the empty hay
shed had been blown open by the wind. He stepped inside for the key,
locked the shed door and put the key into his coat pocket. Then he went
back to the house, removed his coat, and hung it before the fire. Even
now he did not retire, but began pacing the floor. The storm without,
with its biting wind and snow-blended rain, was terrible, and his old
horse was standing in this storm without so much as a blanket to protect
him! He should at least have given his old friend a roof over his head,
since he had come such a long distance.
At the inn across the way the boy heard an old wall clock strike eleven
times. Just then he was untying the animals to lead them to the shed in
the farm yard opposite. It took some time to rouse them and get them
into line. When all were ready, they marched in a long procession into
the stingy farmer's yard, with the boy as their guide.
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