too, had horses that did not earn their feed during the night. Do
you know what the neighbor did? He did the same. He, too, sent out
his horses stealthily, into his neighbor's meadow. So, in the long
run, every one had his cattle browse secretly in some neighbor's
meadow, and all were happy. But when the trespassing shepherd
happened to be caught poaching, he got a whipping. And yet,
strictly speaking, it was not stealing; it was a mere usage. The
land-owners seemed to have agreed beforehand: "If you happen to
catch my shepherd poaching, you may whip him, provided you do not
object if I give a whipping to your shepherd on a similar occasion."
In spite of all this I rather liked "going out for the night." I
loved those nights in the open field. When the moon gave but little
light, and one could see but a few steps away, I forgot my immediate
surroundings, and my imagination was free! I would peer into the
open sky, would bring before my mind's eye father and mother and all
who were dear to me, and would feel near to them; for the sky that
spread over all of us was the very same. I could imagine my father
celebrating the new moon with a prayer. I could imagine my mother
watching for the same star I was looking at; I could imagine that we
were really looking at the same spot. . . . Then tears would come
into my eyes. My mother, I would think, was crying, too. And the
night listened to me, and the stars listened to me. . . . The
crickets chirped, and if I chose, I could believe they shared my
sorrows with me, and were sighing over my fate. . . .

Idle fancy, nonsense, you think; but when one has nothing real to
look up to, dreams are very sweet. A light breeze would steal over
me, refresh me, and bring me new hope; and I trusted I should not be
a prisoner always, the day of my release would surely come. At such
happy moments I would fall asleep gazing at the stars. And if the