IV.—A ROLLING STONE.
I.
i meet him.
Stumbling in the dark upon the hurdle fence I valiantly strided over puddles of mud from window to window, tapped, not very loudly, on the window-panes with my fingers, and cried:
"Give a traveller a night's lodging!"
In reply they sent me to the neighbours or to the Devil; from one window they promised to let the dog loose upon me, from another they threatened me silently but eloquently with their fists and big fists too. A woman screamed at me.
"Go away, be off while you are still whole! My husband is at home."
I understood her: she only took in lodgers during the absence of her husband . . . Regretting that he was at home I went on to the next window.
"Good people, give a traveller a night's lodging!"
They answered me politely:
"In God's name go further on!"
