'Eat a little,' the woman begged the boy; 'it is beggars' food, but it will do you good,' and she poured out a liberal portion on a plate. From the bag she drew out a piece of brown bread and put it in the soup unnoticed; then as he moved up to eat and she saw his worn grey face, mere skin and bone, pity so moved her that she took out a piece of sausage and laid it on the bread.
Jasiek could not resist but ate greedily, from time to time throwing a bone to the dog, who had crept up with entreating eyes.
The beggar man listened a long time; then, when the woman put the pot into his hands, he raised his spoon and said solemnly:
'Eat, man. The Lord Jesus said, give a beggar a farthing and another shall repay thee ten. God be with you!'
They ate in silence, till in an interval the beggar rubbed his mouth with his cuff and said:
'Three things are needful for food to do you good—spirit, salt, bread.
Give us spirit, woman!'
All three drank together and then went on eating.
Jasiek had almost forgotten his danger and threw no more timid looks around. He just ate, sated himself with warmth, sated slowly the four-days' hunger that gnawed him, and felt peaceful in the quietness.
The two peasants had left the cask, but the crowd in the corner on benches or with their bags under their heads on the wet floor were still quietly dreaming; and still came, but in ever sleepier tones, the sound of singing from the inner room. And the rain was still falling and penetrating the roof in some places; it dripped from the ceiling and formed shining sticky circles of mud on the clay floor. And still at times the wind shook the inn or howled in the fire-place, scattered the burning boughs and drove smoke into the room.
'There is something for you too, vagabond!' whispered the woman, giving the rest of the food to the dog, who flitted about them with beseeching eyes.