“Until the Day of Judgment!” Then in a different tone he demanded: “What do you want?”
“I’m looking for work,” Peter said. “Do you need a laborer?”
Peter was well dressed for he had on the last clothes his kind father had given him. The farmer looked him over and sneered.
“A fine laborer you would make! You would do good work at meals—I see that, and spend the rest of your time at cards and teasing the maids! I know your kind!”
Peter tried to tell the farmer that he was industrious and steady but with an oath the farmer told him to go to the Devil. Then stepping inside the house he slammed the door in Peter’s face.
In the next village he applied for work at the bailiff’s house. The bailiff’s wife answered his knock.
“The master is playing cards with two of his friends,” she said. “I’ll go in and ask him if he has anything for you to do.”
Peter heard her speak to some one inside and then a rough voice bellowed out:
“No! How often have I told you not to interrupt me when I’m busy! Tell the fellow to go to the Devil!”
