Long, long ago on the shores of a lake called Semerwater near Wensleydale in Yorkshire, there stood a small town. The people who lived there had money and land but they were selfish and greedy.
One day a poor man came walking through the town. It was October and the lake was gray and ruffled by the cold wind. It would soon be night, for the end of the day comes early in the dales.
The traveler had a pack on his back. He shivered in his thin clothes. He knew he must find shelter for the night, but he was sure someone would take him in.