The farmer was sick of trespassers stealing his crop.
He would occasionally find a clearing in his field with the ashes of a fire. It happened again today. His potatoes were being dug up, roasted and probably eaten right there on his land. He decided that it had to be happening overnight. That night he stayed up, watching from an upper window. Around midnight he saw the faint glow. He made his way to the field and found the fire burning with someone roasting a potato on the end of a stick. Moving closer and crouching behind bushes he could see the perpetrator. He was surprised to find that it was a young lad, no older than twelve. He looked scruffy and dirty. He was obviously a homeless urchin. There were three potatoes on the ground next to where the boy sat, cross-legged. They looked cooked and the boy was preparing the forth.
The farmer hesitated. He continued to look on while the boy remove the last potato from his stick and drop it to the ground. He picked up one that was already cooked and began eating it greedily. With a degree of reluctance, the farmer was about to make his presence known when a stray dog approached slowly sniffing the air. It was extremely thin and looked in worse condition than the boy. The small fire was beginning to burn down. The dog moved forward and the boy picked up a potato and held it out. It was obvious that the boy didn’t know the dog; the farmer could hear him asking the dog if he had a name. The dog sidled up to the boy and took what it was offered between his teeth and backed off slightly to eat. The boy looked down at the remaining two potatoes and picked one up. No sooner had he began eating, the dog was back making soft whining noises.
The farmer stayed silently looking on with interest as the boy looked down at the last potato, then, after a brief pause, held it out for the dog.
The farmer went home to bed.