THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER. 16l

without any supper. This would have been all very
well, only it proved that the villagers cared much about
the money that a stranger had in his pocket, and nothing
whatever for the human soul, which lives equally in the
beggar and the prince.

So now you can understand why old Philemon spoke
so-sorrowfully, when he heard the shouts of the children
and the barking of the dogs, at the farther extremity of
the village street. There was a confused din, which
lasted a good while, and scemed to pass quite through
the breadth of the valley.

“I never heard the dogs so loud!” observed the good
old man.

“Nor the children so rude!” answered his good old
wite.

They sat shaking their heads, one to another, while
the nolse came nearer and nearer; until, at the foot of
the little eminence on which their cottage stood, they
saw two travellers 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 clildren seemed to imitate.

Both of the travellers were very humbly clad, and

K