while the noise came
nearer and nearer; until, at the foot of the little eminence on which
their cottage stood, they saw two travelers approaching on foot. Close
behind them came the fierce dogs, snarling at their very heels. A
little farther off, ran a crowd of children, who sent up shrill cries,
and flung stones at the two strangers, with all their might. Once or
twice, the younger of the two men (he was a slender and very active
figure) turned about and drove back the dogs with a staff which he
carried in his hand. His companion, who was a very tall person, walked
calmly along, as if disdaining to notice either the naughty children,
or the pack of curs, whose manners the children seemed to imitate.

[Illustration: THE STRANGERS IN THE VILLAGE]

Both of the travelers were very humbly clad, and looked as if they
might not have money enough in their pockets to pay for a night's
lodging. And this, I am afraid, was the reason why the villagers had
allowed their children and dogs to treat them so rudely.

"Come, wife," said Philemon to Baucis, "let us go and meet these poor
people. No doubt, they feel almost too heavy-hearted to climb the
hill."

"Go you and meet them," answered Baucis, "while I make haste within
doors, and see whether we can get them anything for supper. A
comfortable bowl of bread and milk would do wonders towards raising
their spirits."

Accordingly, she hastened into the cottage. Philemon, on his part,
went forward, and extended his hand with so hospitable an aspect that
there was no need of saying what nevertheless he did say, in the
heartiest tone imaginable,--

"Welcome, strangers! welcome!"

"Thank you!" replied the younger of the two, in a lively kind of way,
notwithstanding his weariness and trouble. "This is quite another
greeting than we have met with yonder in the village. Pray, why do you
live in such a bad neighborhood?"

"Ah!" observed old Philemon, with a quiet and benign smile,
"Providence put me here, I hope, among other reasons, in order that I
may make you what amends I can for the inhospitality of my neighbors."

"Well said, old father!" cried the traveler, laughing; "and, if the
truth must be told, my companion and myself need some amends. Those
children (the little rascals!) have bespattered us finely with their
mud-balls; and one of the curs has torn my cloak, which was ragged
enough already. But I took him across the muzzle with my staff; and I
think you may have heard