162 THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER.

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. Phile-
mon, on his part, went forward, and extended his hand
with so hospitable an aspect that there was uo need of
saying, what nevertheless he did say, in the hearticst
tone imaginable, — oe

‘“‘ 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 traveller, 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-ball ;