But Philemon, simple and kind-hearted old man that he was, had not many secrets to disclose.  He talked, however, quite garrulously, about the events of his past life, in the whole course of which he had never been a score of miles from this very spot.  His wife Baucis and himself had dwelt in the cottage from their youth upward, earning their bread by honest labour, always poor, but still contented.  He told what excellent butter and cheese Baucis made, and how nice were the vegetables which he raised in his garden.  He said, too, that, because they loved one another so very much, it was the wish of both that death might not separate them, but that they should die, as they had lived, together.

As the stranger listened, a smile beamed over his countenance, and made its expression as sweet as it was grand.

“You are a good old man,” said he to Philemon, “and you have a good old wife to be your helpmeet.  It is fit that your wish be granted.”

And it seemed to Philemon, just then, as if the sunset clouds threw up a bright flash from the west, and kindled a sudden light in the sky.

Baucis had now got supper ready, and, coming to the door, began to make apologies for the poor fare which she was forced to set before her guests.

“Had we known you were coming,” said she, “my good man and myself would have gone without a morsel, rather than you should lack a better supper.  But I took the most part of to-day’s milk to make cheese; and our last loaf is already half eaten.  Ah me!  I never feel the sorrow of being poor, save when a poor traveller knocks at our door.”

“All will be very well; do not trouble yourself, my good dame,” replied the elder stranger, kindly.  “An honest, hearty welcome to a guest works miracles with the fare, and is capable of turning the coarsest food to nectar and ambrosia.”

“A welcome you shall have,” cried Baucis, “and likewise a little honey that we happen to have left, and a bunch of purple grapes besides.”

“Why, Mother Baucis, it is a feast!” exclaimed Quicksilver, laughing, “an absolute feast! and you shall see how bravely I will play my part at it!  I think I never felt hungrier in my life.”

“Mercy on us!” whispered Baucis to her husband.  “If the young man has such a terrible appetite, I am afraid there will not be half enough supper!”

They all went into the cottage.

And, now, my little auditors, shall I tell you something that will make you open your eyes very wide?  It is really one of the oddest circumstances in the who|e story.  Quicksilver’s staff, you recollect, had set itself up against the wall of the cottage.  Well; when its master entered the door, leaving this wonderful staff behind, what should it do but immediately spread its little wings, and go hopping and fluttering up the door-steps!  Tap, tap, went the staff, on the kitchen floor; nor did it rest until it had stood itself on end, with the greatest gravity and decorum, beside Quicksilver’s chair.  Old Philemon, however, as well as his wife, was so taken up in attending to their guests, that no notice was given to what the staff had been about.