There was once a poor beggar. He had nothing but the worn-out clothes he was wearing, and day after day he begged at the city gates for a bite to eat.
One morning, a kind person gave him a piece of bread. The beggar thanked him warmly and squeezed the bread in his hands. Oh, how he would have liked to have something to eat with it! He began to fantasize: Maybe a sliver of fragrant cheese or butter, maybe a spoonful of thick soup. Or if he was really lucky, perhaps even a piece of roast meat!
The beggar made up his mind to walk through the city streets. Maybe someone would take pity on him and he would get something else to eat.
There was an inn on the corner of the first street, so the beggar went straight to its door and humbly asked whether they might have anything to spare.
“We have nothing for you, off you go now!” the innkeeper shouted at him, trying to shoo him away like an annoying fly.
The beggar turned sadly and walked around the corner, where he suddenly smelled the wonderful smell of soup. Ahh, what a joy! He looked up and noticed that just inside the window of the inn there was a roaring fire, and above it hung a large pot full of thick, spiced, bubbling liquid.
The beggar raised his piece of bread closer to the window – he hoped that the fragrant steam rising from the soup would soak into the bread at least a little and give it some flavour.
Just then, someone grabbed his arm tightly. The innkeeper towered over the beggar, his face twisted with anger: “You’re stealing our soup! You scoundrel!”
“I…
