“I thank you for it,” said the poor man, and bowed down, and was going home.

“Stay,” the rich brother said to him: “Come with your wife tomorrow and be my guests. Tomorrow is my name-day.”

“Oh, brother, how can I? As you know, merchants who wear boots and furs come to see you, whilst I have only bast shoes, and I only have my grey coat.”

“Never mind! Come tomorrow; I shall still have room for you.”

“Good brother! I will come.”

So the poor man went home, gave his wife the loaf of bread, and said: “Listen, wife. Tomorrow you and I are to be guests.”

“Who has asked us?”

“My brother. Tomorrow is his name-day.”