r a cold walk to the town beyond. Mrs. W. was displeased, but on
consultation with her husband, cold bacon and bread were set out on an
old table, and he was somewhat gruffly told to eat. It was growing
dark, and hints were thrown out that the stranger had better depart,
as it was three long miles to town.

The homely meal was at last concluded--the man thanked him kindly for
the hospitality he had received, and opened the door to go. But it was
quite dark and the clouds denoting a storm filled the heavens.

"You say it is full three miles to D----?"

"I do," said Mr. W. coldly. "I said so when you first stopped, and you
ought to have pushed on, like a prudent man. You could have reached
there before it was quite dark."

"But I was cold and hungry, and might have fainted by the way."

His manner of saying this touched the farmer's feelings a little.

"You have warmed and fed me, for which I am thankful. Will you now
bestow another act of kindness upon one in a strange place, who if he
goes out into the darkness, may lose himself and perish in the cold?"

The particular form in which this request was made, and the tone in
which it was uttered, put it out of the farmer's heart to say no.

"Go in there and sit down," he answered, pointing to the kitchen, "and
I will see my wife and hear what she says."

And Mr. W. went into the parlor where the supper table stood, covered
with snow-white cloth, and displaying his wife's set of blue-sprigged
china, that was brought out only on special occasions.

The tall mold candles were burning thereon, and on the hearth blazed a
cheerful fire.

"Hasn't that old fellow gone yet?" asked Mrs. W. She heard his voice
as he returned from the door.

"No, and what do you suppose, he wants us to let him stay all night."

"Indeed, we will do no such thing. We cannot have the likes of him in
the house now. Where could he sleep?"

"Not in the best room, even if Mr. N. did not come."

"No, indeed!"

"But really I don't see, Jane, how we can turn him out of doors. He
doesn't look like a strong man, and it's full three miles to D----."

"It's too much; he ought to have gone on while he had daylight, and
not lingered here, as he did, till it got dark."

"We can't turn him out of doors, Jane, and it's no use to think of it.
He'll have to stay somehow."

"But what can we do with him?"

"He seems like a decent man at least; and doesn't look as if he had
anything bad about him. We m