Your husband, for instance, is nearly
starved." "No, really?" cried the good wife, clasping her hands. "Only
fancy, my good husband starving out there, so fond as he was of a good
dinner, too!" Then she added, coaxingly, "As you know him so well,
perhaps you wouldn't mind doing him the charity of taking him a little
somewhat, to give him a treat. There are such lots of things I could
easily send him." "Oh dear, no, not at all. I'll do so with pleasure,"
answered he. "But I'm not going back till to-morrow, and if I don't
sleep here I must go on farther, and then I shan't come by this way."
"That's true," replied the widow. "Ah, well, I mustn't mind what the
folks say; for such an opportunity as this may never occur again. You
must sleep in my bed, and I must sleep on the hearth; and in the morning
I'll load a donkey with provisions for my poor husband." "Oh, no,"
replied the pilgrim, "you shan't be disturbed in your bed. Only let me
sleep on the hearth--that will do for me; and as I am an early riser, I
can be gone before any one's astir, so folks won't have anything to
say."
So it was done, and an hour before sunrise the woman was up, loading the
donkey with the best of her stores--ham, macaroni, flour, cheese, and
wine. All this she committed to the pilgrim, saying, "You'll send the
donkey back, won't you?" "Of course I would send him back," he replied;
"he'd be of no use to me out there.
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