We are very tired and hungry, my boy and I,” whined Rudolph. “We’ve traveled many miles since morning. Would you kindly give us some supper and a night’s lodging?”
“My wife’ll give you something to eat,” said the old man. “Thank Heaven! we’ve got enough for ourselves and a bit for the poor besides. But I don’t know about lodging. I don’t like to take in strangers that I know nothing about.”
“I don’t blame you, sir,” said Rudolph, in a tone of affected humility. “There’s many rogues going round the country, I’ve heard, but I’m a poor, hard-working man.”
“Then why are you not at work?”
“Times are hard, and I can get nothing to do. I am in search of work. I can do almost anything. I’m a carpenter by trade.”
Rudolph knew no more of the carpenter’s trade than the man in the moon, but that would do as well as any other.
“Where are you from?”
“From Buffalo,” he answered, with slight hesitation.
“Is business dull there?”
“Nothing doing.”