They reached the road just as a peasant came along. He was an old
man, and was dragging behind him a pile of faggots, which were
placed upon two rough poles. He was walking between these, holding
two ends in his hands, while the others trailed along on the ground
behind.

"Bargain with him, Paolo."

"That is a heavy load, father," the latter said.

"Ay, it is heavy."

"How much do you expect to get for your faggots in the town?"

"I shall get a crown," the man said. "I would not take under, and
they ought to be worth more than that now the snow has begun to
fall."

"We are going into the town," Paolo said. "We are younger than you,
and between us we could drag it along easily. I have got a crown
in my pocket to buy some things with. I don't mind giving it to
you for your load. If I can sell the faggots for a few soldi over
that we shall be able to buy something for ourselves."

"It is a bargain, lad," the old man said. "I am getting old and the
rheumatism is in my bones, and I shall be very glad to be spared
the journey; so give me your money and take the poles. I hope you
will be successful, and sell them a little higher. You had better
ask a crown and a half. The women are sure to beat you down, but
you will make ten or twelve soldi for yourselves."