He was a small man, with long hair and beard, and dressed in a suit of clothes of a remarkable color,--something of the hue of faded snuff.

He had a big stick, and carried a large flat valise in one hand.
He bowed to me very politely.
"Can I stop here to-night ?" he asked, taking off his hat, as my wife put her head out of the kitchen-door.
"Why,--no, sir," I said.

"This is not a tavern." "Not a tavern!" he exclaimed.

"I don't understand that.

You have a sign out." "That is true," I said; "but that is only for fun, so to speak.