He then took his crust of bread out of his wallet again, as if to
eat it; held it some time in his hand,--then laid it upon the bit
of his ass's bridle,--looked wistfully at the little arrangement he
had made--and then gave a sigh.

The simplicity of his grief drew numbers about him, and La Fleur
amongst the rest, whilst the horses were getting ready; as I
continued sitting in the post-chaise, I could see and hear over
their heads.

- He said he had come last from Spain, where he had been from the
furthest borders of Franconia; and had got so far on his return
home, when his ass died. Every one seemed desirous to know what
business could have taken so old and poor a man so far a journey
from his own home.

It had pleased heaven, he said, to bless him with three sons, the
finest lads in Germany; but having in one week lost two of the
eldest of them by the small-pox, and the youngest falling ill of
the same distemper, he was afraid of being bereft of them all; and
made a vow, if heaven would not take him from him also, he would go
in gratitude to St. Iago in Spain.

When the mourner got thus far on his story, he stopp'd to pay
Nature her tribute,--and wept bitterly.

He said, heaven had accepted the conditions; and that he had set
out from his cottage with this poor creature, who had been a
patient partner of his journey;--that it had eaten the same bread
with him all the way, and was unto him as a friend.