As she spoke I saw approaching us a grey-headed old man with a wooden leg⁠—a man who was dressed in a blue frockcoat and carrying a staff. He looked like an old soldier. As soon as I tendered him the coin he fell back a step or two, and eyed me threateningly.

“ Was ist der Teufel! ” he cried, and appended thereto a round dozen of oaths.

“The man is a perfect fool!” exclaimed the Grandmother, waving her hand. “Move on now, for I am simply famished. When we have lunched we will return to that place.”

“What?” cried I. “You are going to play again ?”

“What else do you suppose?” she retorted. “Are you going only to sit here, and grow sour, and let me look at you?”