ents, which indeed came to pass, for he died,
nor did she long survive him.

"Then her mother, who had magic power (_essendo stata una fata_ {177}),
regretted having opposed her daughter's love and that of the young man,
since it had caused the death of both. And to amend this she so
enchanted them that by night both became _folletti_ or spirits haunting
the hospital, while by day the maid becomes a little fish living in the
fountain. But when seen by night she appears as a pretty little nun
(_una bella monachina_), and goes to the hospital to nurse the invalids,
for which she has, indeed, a passion. And if any one of them observes
her, he feels better, but in that instant she vanishes, and is in the
arms of her lover. But sometimes it happens that he becomes jealous of a
patient, and then he vexes the poor man in every way, twitching off his
covering, and playing him all kinds of spiteful tricks."

* * * * *

It is otherwise narrated, in a more consistent, and certainly more
traditionally truthful manner, that both the lovers are fish by day and
_folletti_ by night. This brings the legend to close resemblance with
the undying fish of Bowscale Tarn, recorded in Wordsworth's beautiful
song at the feast of Brougham Castle in the "Poems of the Imagination."

* * * * *

"'Tis worth noting," pens the observant Flaxius on this, "that in days of
yore fish, feminines, and fascination were considered so inseparable that
Dr. Johannes Christian Fromann wrote a chapter on this mystical trinity,
observing that music was, as an attractor, connected with them, as shown
by dolphins, syrens, Arions, and things of that sort. And he
quoted--yea, in the holy Latin tongue--many instances of fishers who
entice their finny prey by playing flutes:

"'Which thing I doubted till I saw that Doubt
Pursued, its refutation oft begets,
When in America I once found out
That shad were caught by means of castin' nets!'"

STORY OF THE PODESTA WHO WAS LONG ON HIS JOURNEY
A LEGEND OF THE DUOMO

"Were I ten times as tedious, I would find it in my heart to bestow
it all on you."--_Dogberry_.

This little tale is told by the Florentine Poggio, who was born in 1380
and died in 1459, yet lived--in his well-known _Facezie_. But as it ever
was and is a folk-story, independently of the great jester, I think it
worthy of a place in this collection