He took pity upon him and invited him to come to his cave for food and shelter.

On their way, the Man kept blowing upon his fingers. "Why do you do that?" said the Satyr, who had seen but little of the world of men.

"To warm my hands," replied the Man; "they are nearly frozen."

Arriving at the cave, the Satyr poured out a smoking mess of pottage and set it before the Traveler, who eagerly seized it and began to blow upon it with all his might.

"What, blowing again!" exclaimed the Satyr. "Is it not hot enough?"

"It is indeed," answered the Man; "that is the very reason why I am blowing it. I want to cool it enough to be able to eat it."

Upon this the Satyr exclaimed in alarm, "Be off with you! I will have no part with a Man who can blow hot and cold from the same mouth."