About midnight the fisherman sat up , and said to his wife : ` Dost thou hear anything ? ' ` No , ' said she . ' I think the twirling of the weathercock on the roof bodes ill , ' said he ; ` we shall have a storm . ' ` Oh , it is nothing but your fancy , ' said his wife . Matte lay down , but soon rose again . ` The weathercock is squeaking now , ' said he . ` Just fancy ! Go to sleep , ' said his wife ; and the old man tried to . For the third time he jumped out of bed . ` Ho ! how the weather-cock is roaring at the pitch of its voice , as if it had a fire inside it ! We are going to have a tempest , and must bring in the net . ' Both rose . The summer night was as dark as if it had been October , the weather-cock creaked , and the storm was raging in every direction . As they went out the sea lay around them as white as now , and the spray was dashing right over the fisher-hut . In all his life Matte had never remembered such a night . To launch the boat and put to sea to rescue the net was a thing not to be thought of . The fisherman and his wife stood aghast on the doorstep , holding on fast by the doorpost , while the foam splashed over their faces . ` Did I not tell thee that there is no luck in Sunday fishing ? ' said Matte sulkily ; and his wife was so frightened that she never even once thought of Ahti 's cows .
As there was nothing XXXXX be done , they went in .
For In at by on out over that to while