Well, the Man in the—I mean the Man (but I nearly forgot what I have just said)—the Man turned to the south and began walking briskly along the road, for he had made up his mind to do as the alderman had advised and travel to Norwich, that he might eat some of the famous pease porridge that was made there. And finally, after a long and tiresome journey, he reached the town and stopped at one of the first houses he came to, for by this time he was very hungry indeed.
A good-looking woman answered his knock at the door, and he asked politely,
"Is this the town of Norwich, madam?"
"Surely this is the town of Norwich," returned the woman.
"I came here to see if I could get some pease porridge," continued the Man, "for I hear you make the nicest porridge in the world in this town."
"That we do, sir," answered the woman, "and if you'll step inside I'll give you a bowl, for I have plenty in the house that is newly made."
So he thanked her and entered the house, and she asked,
"Will you have it hot or cold, sir?"
"Oh, cold, by all means," replied the Man, "for I detest anything hot to eat."