Slowly the daylight descended from the roofs, and shadows grew larger in the yard below; then afar off—very far—Mathéus heard a lark sing; then a cock put his head out of the window of the fowl-house, made a step forward, and expanded his shining wings to the fresh morning air; a thrill of pleasure raised all his feathers; he inflated his chest and sent forth a shrill, piercing, prolonged cry, that reached to the surrounding woods. The chilly hens advanced timidly to the edge of the ladder, calling to one another, springing from step to step, preening themselves with their beaks, cackling and laughing in their manner; they spread themselves along the walls, hastily snapping up the worms drinking the morning dews. The pigeons very soon afterwards were flying in wide circles round the yard. At length the bright rays of the sun penetrated the stables; a sheep bleated softly; all the others answered it, and Mathéus opened a shutter to give the poor animals air. A delightful sight then expanded the good man’s heart; daylight streaming in amid the trembling shadows in long streaks of gold lit up the dark beams, the harness hanging against the wall, the cribs bristling with forage. Nothing in the way of peacefulness could surpass this picture: big oxen with half-closed eyelids, down-weighed heads, and knees bent under their chests, were still sleeping; but the handsome white heifer was already wide awake; she placed her bluish muzzle, glittering with moisture, on the back of the milch cow, and looked at Mathéus out of her great surprised eyes, as much as to say: “What does he want with us?—I’ve never seen him before.” There was also the draught-horse, looking very tired and broken-spirited; but that did not prevent his every now and then taking a wisp of clover, which he ate because he had nothing else to do. The little black kid raised itself on to the rack to get at a handful of still fresh grass; but that which more than all struck the doctor was the magnificent Glaan bull, the pride and glory of Mother Windling. He could not enough admire its broad crispy head, like the stump of an old oak, its short and shining horns, like iron wedges; its soft and supple dewlap, extending from the lower lip to the knees.