Jacob and the Raven 53

eye open, bustled down in a tremendous
hurry, and hopped on the back of the sleigh.
Jacob was tucked up inside as comfortably
as possible, and then the woman—pushing
back Klopp, who, greedy-eyed and _ lean,
stood by her side—laid her hand softly on
his eyes.

“Now sleep,” she murmured, and with a
quick jangle of bells the reindeer rushed
forward, and Jacob knew no more.

When he came to himself, he rubbed his
eyes. Grey dawn was breaking, the church
clock was striking, and he was lying on his
little bed in his garret. Everything looked
so familiar that there was nothing to wonder
at except a heap on the floor over which was
flung a deerskin, which certainly was never
there before; and when he had stared a good
deal at the ceiling and the white walls, and
his one chair, and the little picture of his
father and mother standing hand in hand,
and had looked through the small panes of
glass at the great walnut tree outside, he
sprang out of bed and pulled off the skin.