What made it worse, too, was that when rich people came in their carriages, or riding on fine horses, with servants to attend to them, the village people would take off their hats and be very polite and attentive:  and if the children were rude they got their ears boxed; as to the dogs—­if a single dog dared to growl at a rich man he was beaten and then tied up without any supper.

So now you can understand why old Philemon spoke sadly when he heard the shouts of the children, and the barking of the dogs, at the far end of the village street.

He and Baucis sat shaking their heads while the noise came nearer and nearer, until they saw two travelers coming along the road on foot.  A crowd of rude children were following them, shouting and throwing stones, and several dogs were snarling at the travelers’ heels.

They were both very plainly dressed, and looked as if they might not have enough money to pay for a night’s lodging.

“Come, wife,” said Philemon, “let us go and meet these poor people and offer them shelter.”

“You go,” said Baucis, “while I make ready some supper,” and she hastened indoors.

Philemon went down the road, and holding out his hand to the two men, he said, “Welcome, strangers, welcome.”

“Thank you,” answered the younger of the two travelers.  “Yours is a kind welcome, very different from the one we got in the village; pray why do you live in such a bad place?”

“I think,” answered Philemon, “that Providence put me here just to make up as best I can for other people’s unkindness.”

The traveler laughed heartily, and Philemon was glad to see him in such good spirits.  He took a good look at him and his companion.  The younger man was very thin, and was dressed in an odd kind of way.  Though it was a summer evening, he wore a cloak which was wrapped tightly about him; and he had a cap on his head, the brim of which stuck out over both ears.  There was something queer too about his shoes, but as it was getting dark, Philemon could not see exactly what they were like.

One thing struck Philemon very much, the traveler was so wonderfully light and active that it seemed as if his feet were only kept close to the ground with difficulty.  He had a staff in his hand which was the oddest-looking staff Philemon had seen.  It was made of wood and had a little pair of wings near the top.  Two snakes cut into the wood were twisted round the staff, and these were so well carved that Philemon almost thought he could see them wriggling.

The older man was very tall, and walked calmly along, taking no notice either of naughty children or yelping dogs.

When they reached the cottage gate, Philemon said, “We are very poor folk, but you are welcome to whatever we have in the cupboard.  My wife Baucis has gone to see what you can have for supper.”

They sat down on the bench, and the younger stranger let his staff fall as he threw himself down on the grass, and then a strange thing happened.  The staff seemed to get up from the ground of its own accord, and it opened a little pair of wings and half-hopped, half-flew and leaned itself against the wall of the cottage.