The dwarf looked in astonishment on the master of the house, who, regardless of the hospitable customs of the country, could thus turn a poor man away from his door; but the farmer took no notice of his surprise, nor of his wife's looks of entreaty. "No, wife," he said harshly, "this time you shall not have your own way. I will not keep open house for all the beggars in the land. Did I not give in to you about that boy over there? You might be content with that." Poor Hans blushed crimson at this allusion to his poverty, but when the little man turned away with a sigh and left the inhospitable threshold, sympathy with the poor old man overcame his fear of his employer; he seized the plate with the pancakes, and the great piece of bread which the farmer's wife had just given him, and ran out of the room. "What's the boy after?" asked the farmer angrily. "He is just doing what we ought to have done," answered the wife, with gentle reproach in her fair face; "he is sharing his meal with the poor man." "Yes, yes," growled the man, "birds of a feather flock together." Meantime the old man was creeping with weary steps across the yard, and had just reached the gate when Hans seized him by the arm. "Here, good little man," said he in mingled pity and fear--"here is my supper; come, sit down there on the well and eat." The old man's dark eyes rested with a pleased look on the boy. "And what hast thou for thyself, child, if thou givest away thine own share?" "Oh! that does not matter," said Hans unconcernedly, while he led the dwarf to the stone wall which surrounded the well. "I am not very hungry, and the farmer's good wife would give me more if I asked her." The old man sat down and began to eat, while Hans watched with delight how his aged friend enjoyed it. Soon the plate was empty, and the little man rose with thanks to set out on further wanderings, and to seek a night's shelter under a more hospitable roof. Hans went with him to the gate, and whispered hastily, "Do not think ill of the farmer for having refused you; he is not always so churlish, but to-day something has occurred to vex him--he was not re-elected as burgomaster of the village, but his bitterest foe was successful; that has soured him, and so every one who comes in his way must suffer for it. But listen, little man; to the right there, on the rock over which the path leads to the mountain, stands the hay-loft with its roof touching the stone. That's where I sleep, and if you climb a little way up the rock, and wait there till I go to bed, I will open the trap-door, and you can creep in to me among the hay." "Thou art a good boy," said the old man; "I will do as thou sayest, and wait for thee there upon the rock." It was night when Hans was at last allowed to seek his couch. More nimbly than usual he sprang up the slender ladder to the hay-loft, and then he quickly unfastened the trap-door which opened on the roof.