castles of the robber-captains of the Mugello in Tuscany, a hard-working
and trustworthy bonds-man--one Chiarissimo--"Old Honesty," as we may
call him. He was married to an excellent helpmeet, and was by his lord
permitted to till a small piece of land and rear his family.

In addition to intelligence in agriculture, it would seem that he, or
perhaps his wife, possessed some knowledge of the virtues of roots and
herbs, for, in one corner of his _podere_, he had a garden of "simples."
The few peaceable inhabitants of that warlike valley, and also many a
wounded man-at-arms, sought "Old Honesty" and his wise mate for what we
now call "kitchen remedies."

Those, indeed, were happy days with respect to suffering human nature.
"Kill or Cure" might have been the character of the healing art, but
certainly specialists had not invented our appendicitis and other
fashionable twentieth-century physical fashions! A little medical
knowledge sufficed, and decoctions, pillules, poultices, and bleedings
made up the simple pharmacopoeia.

All the same, the satirical rhyme, which an old chronicler put into the
mouths of many a despairing patient, in later days, may have been true
also of "Old Honesty" and his nostrums:

"There's not a herb nor a root
Nor any remedy to boot
Which can stave death off by a foot!"

Of that good couple's family only one name has been
preserved--Gianbuono, "Good John." Passerini says he was a
priest--probably he means a hermit. Anyhow, he acquired more property in