"Close by the high-road," said the Moon, "is an inn, and
opposite to it is a great waggon-shed, whose straw roof was just being
re-thatched. I looked down between the bare rafters and through the
open loft into the comfortless space below. The turkey-cock slept on
the beam, and the saddle rested in the empty crib. In the middle of
the shed stood a travelling carriage; the proprietor was inside,
fast asleep, while the horses were being watered. The coachman
stretched himself, though I am very sure that he had been most
comfortably asleep half the last stage. The door of the servants' room
stood open, and the bed looked as if it had been turned over and over;
the candle stood on the floor, and had burnt deep down into the
socket. The wind blew cold through the shed: it was nearer to the dawn
than to midnight. In the wooden frame on the ground slept a wandering
family of musicians. The father and mother seemed to be dreaming of
the burning liquor that remained in the bottle. The little pale
daughter was dreaming too, for her eyes were wet with tears. The harp
stood at their heads, and the dog lay stretched at their feet."