Harold Scott sold cheap shoes. He had a small lorry, and he 
bought the shoes from the factory and took them from one 
house to another and tried to sell them to people. 
He sold a lot of his shoes in small villages, because there 
were not many shops there, and people did not want to go to 
the town and buy their shoes there. 
One day Harold drove along the street of a village and 
stopped in front of one of the houses. There was a small boy 
beside the door. Harold opened the window of his lorry and 
called to the boy, "Hello. Is your mother at home?" 
The boy looked at him. Then he answered, "Yes, she is." 
"That's good," Harold said, and he smiled. He got out of his 
lorry, took some shoes from the back and went to the door of 
the house. He knocked at the door and then he waited, but the 
door did not open. 
After a minute, Harold knocked at the door again and waited 
for two minutes, but again the door did not open. 
Then Harold looked at the small boy and said in an angry 
voice, "Your mother is not at home." 
"She is," the small boy answered. 
"Then why hasn't she opened the door?" Harold asked. 
"Because this isn't my house," the small boy answered.