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 too, seeing it freezes so hard, a body can get none for the kettle, saving what's broken up with a hatchet.'

On this the beggar turned hastily away.

And at this point in his narrative, the person who told it me stopped and said, 'Do you think the old woman was very much to blame?'

'She might have acted more kindly,' I replied; 'but why do you ask?'

'Because,' said he, 'I have heard her conduct so much reflected on by some who would have thought nothing of it if it had not been for the consequences.'

'She might have turned him away less roughly,' I observed.

'That is true,' he answered; 'but, in any case, I think, though we might give them food or money, we should hardly invite beggars in to sit by the fire.'

'Certainly not,' I replied; 'and this woman could not tell that the beggar was honest.'

'No,' said he; 'but I must go on with my narrative.'

The stranger turned very hastily from her door, and waded through the deep snow towards the other cottage. The bitter wind helped to drive him towards it. It looked no less poor than the first; and, when he had tried the door, found it bolted, and knocked twice without attracting attention, his heart sank within him. His hand was so numbed with cold, that he had made scarcely any noise; he tried again.

A rush candle was burning within, and a matronly-looking woman sat before the fire. She held an infant in her arms, and had dropped asleep; but his third knock roused her, and, wrapping her apron round the Rh