Next year the turn came to Boots; but when he made ready to go the other
two began to laugh and to make game of him, saying,--

"You're just the man to watch the hay, that you are; you, who have done
nothing all your life but sit in the ashes and toast yourself by the
fire."

But Boots did not care a pin for their chattering, and as evening drew
on, he walked up the hillside to the outlying field. There he went
inside the barn and sat down; but in about an hour's time the barn began
to groan and creak, so that it was dreadful to hear.

"Well," said Boots to himself, "if it isn't worse than this, I can stand
it well enough."

A little while after came another creak and an earthquake, so that the
litter in the barn flew about the lad's ears.

"Oh!" said Boots to himself, "if it isn't worse than this, I daresay I
can stand it out."

But just then came a third rumbling and a third earthquake, so that the
lad thought walls and roof were coming down on his head; but it passed
off, and all was still as death about him.

"It'll come again, I'll be bound," thought Boots; but no, it didn't come
again; still it was, and still it stayed. But after he had sat a little
while, he heard a noise as if a horse were standing just outside the
barn door, and feeding on the grass. He stole to the door, and peeped
through a chink, and there stood a horse feeding away. So big, and fat,