The Sleepy Barn on Clover Hill

On top of Clover Hill stood a big red barn. Every evening, when the sun slid behind the meadow, old Rooster Red cleared his throat. “Time to rest, time to rest, the stars are doing the rest.” One by one, the animals yawned. All except Pudge, the littlest pig. Pudge was wide awake.

“I can't sleep,” said Pudge. “My eyes won't shut. They just won't.” Her sisters Poppy and Pearl were already snoring. Snort… snort… snort. “Try counting stars,” yawned Clover the sheep from the barn door. “That's what I do.”

🖐️ Together: Can you snore like a piglet? Snort, snort!

Pudge trotted to the door. Stars were popping out like silver seeds. “One star,” she counted. “Two stars. Three stars. Four…” Then a shooting star zipped across the sky! Pudge squealed with joy. Now she was more awake than ever.

🖐️ Together: Count the stars with Pudge: one, two, three, four!

Bessie the cow lay in the warm hay. “Come here, little one,” she said. “Listen to my tummy.” Pudge pressed one ear against Bessie's side. Rumble… gurgle… rumble… “It sounds like a thunderstorm!” giggled Pudge. That was cosy. But it was not sleepy.

Ned the horse hummed his night-time tune. Low and slow, like far-away thunder that is kind. “Time to rest, time to rest, the stars are doing the rest,” he hummed. Pudge's ears drooped a little. Her tail stopped wiggling. But her eyes? Still open.

🖐️ Together: Hum along with Ned: mmm-mmm-mmm…

Then Pudge heard something. Peep. Peep-peep. A tiny sound from the roost. Up on the beam, one little chick was wide awake too. Its feathers stuck up every which way. “Can't you sleep either?” whispered Pudge. The chick shook its head. Peep.

Pudge knew just what to do. She curled up in the straw right under the roost. “Time to rest, time to rest, the stars are doing the rest,” she whispered, soft as hay. The little chick tucked its head under its wing. Pudge yawned. A big, slow, piggy yawn.

The moon peeked through the barn window and painted everything silver. Bessie breathed slowly. Ned had stopped humming. Clover had lost count. Up on the beam, the chick was still. And Pudge? Pudge was fast asleep, the whole barn breathing softly with her. Goodnight, Clover Hill.