because the knowledge of God and the distinction between good and
evil are also necessary in a working position, certainly of but
trifling importance but honest as mine is, and which was my father's
and also will be yours, please God."

And from this very day on, sitting from morn till night, at the
corner of the fireplace, I turned the spit, the open horn-book on my
knees. A good Capuchin friar, who with his bag came a-begging to my
father, taught me how to spell. He did so the more willingly as my
father, who had a consideration for knowledge, paid for his lesson
with a savoury morsel of roast turkey and a large glass of wine, so
liberally that by-and-by the little friar, aware that I was able to
form syllables and words tolerably well, brought me a fine "Life of
St Margaret," wherewith he taught me to read fluently.

On a certain day, having as usual laid his wallet on the counter, he
sat down at my side, and, warming his naked feet on the hot ashes of
the fireplace, he made me recite for the hundredth time:

"Pucelle sage, nette et fine,
Aide des femmes en gesine
Ayez pitie de nous."

At this moment a man of rather burly stature and withal of noble
appearance, clad in the ecclesiastical habit, entered the shop and
shouted out with an ample voice:

"Hello! host, serve me a good portion!" With grey hair, he still
looked full of health and strength. His mouth was laughing and his
eyes were sprightly, his cheeks were somewhat heavy and his three