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 tire 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.