Going through a village I saw a man carrying a great baked pie, smelling overpoweringly, so that to ask him his price for it was a natural impulse with me.

'What! sell my Sunday dinner ?' he said, and appeared ready to drop the dish.

Nothing stopped his staring until we had finished a plateful a-piece and some beer in his cottage among his family.

He wanted to take me in alone.

'She's a common tramp,' he said of the girl.
'That's a lie,' she answered.
Of course I would not leave her hungry outside, so in the end he reluctantly invited us both, and introduced us to his wife.
'Here's a young gentleman asks a bit o' dinner, and a young I-d'n-know-what 's after the same; I leaves it to you, missus.' His wife took it off his shoulders in good humour, saying it was lucky she made the pie big enough for her family and strays.