A Man had lost his way in a wood one bitter winter’s night.
As he was roaming about, a Satyr came up to him, and finding
that he had lost his way, promised to give him a lodging
for the night, and guide him out of the forest in the morning.
As he went along to the Satyr’s cell, the Man raised both
his hands to his mouth and kept on blowing at them. ‘What
do you do that for?’ said the Satyr.
‘My hands are numb with the cold,’ said the Man, ‘and
my breath warms them.’
After this they arrived at the Satyr’s home, and soon the
Satyr put a smoking dish of porridge before him. But when
the Man raised his spoon to his mouth he began blowing
upon it. ‘And what do you do that for?’ said the Satyr.
‘The porridge is too hot, and my breath will cool it.’
‘Out you go,’ said the Satyr. ‘I will have nought to do with
a man who can blow hot and cold with the same breath.’