"Can't what?" said the old gentleman.

"I can't let you in, sir--I can't, indeed; my brothers would beat
me to death, sir, if I thought of such a thing. What do you
want, sir?"

"Want?" said the old gentleman petulantly. "I want fire and
shelter, and there's your great fire there blazing, crackling,
and dancing on the walls with nobody to feel it. Let me in, I
say; I only want to warm myself."

Gluck had had his head, by this time, so long out of the window
that he began to feel it was really unpleasantly cold, and when
he turned and saw the beautiful fire rustling and roaring and
throwing long, bright tongues up the chimney, as if it were
licking its chops at the savory smell of the leg of mutton, his
heart melted within him that it should be burning away for
nothing. "He does look very wet," said little Gluck; "I'll just
let him in for a quarter of an hour." Round he went to the door
and opened it; and as the little gentleman walked in, there came
a gust of wind through the house that made the old chimneys
totter.

"That's a good boy," said the little gentleman. "Never mind your
brothers. I'll talk to them."

"Pray, sir, don't do any such thing," said Gluck. "I can't let
you stay till they come; they'd be the death of me."