an old man was sitting alone in his lodge by the side of a frozen stream . it was the close of winter , and his fire was almost out . he appeared very old and very desolate . his locks were white with age , and he trembled in every joint . day after day passed in solitude , and he heard nothing but the sounds of the tempest , sweeping before it the new - fallen snow . one day as his fire was just dying , a handsome young man approached and entered his dwelling . his cheeks were red with the blood of youth ; his eyes sparkled with life , and a smile played upon his lips . he walked with a light and quick step . his forehead was bound with a wreath of sweet grass , in place of the warrior 's frontlet , and he carried a bunch of flowers in his hand . " ah ! my son , " said the old man , " i am happy to see you . come in . come , tell me of your adventures , and what strange lands you have been to see . let us pass the night together . i will tell you of my prowess and exploits , and what i can perform . you shall do the same , and we will amuse ourselves . "
the old man was no longer alone .
why was the old man happy when the young man entered his dwelling ?
why was the old man happy when the young man entered his dwelling ?